Strangers on a Train
by TheRedRidingHood
Summary: Danny doesnt know his neighbours very well, so when he goes to help on of them out and things go very wrong, Danny risks losing his job, his freedom, his sanity and maybe his life.CHAPTER 7 FINALLY POSTED SORRY FOR THE DLEAY, WRITERS BLOCK KILLS ME, RR
1. Chapter 1

** Okay, this is Strangers on a Train, i want to thank Melissa, my delightful beta writer for all her superb additions to the story, i dont own any of the csi gang, alas, and warnings for violence and possible language and such like.**

** The story is based on a comment made by Flack in an ep, where Danny remakrked he didt know his neighbours very weel and Flack told him he should in case he ever goes missing. Me and Stealth Dragon built on the ideas this presented and this is the short first chapter of that story!**

** Please R and R, i'll update as soon as i possibly can but since i just started university i'm a wee bit busy so forgive any delays, please! Enjoy.xxxxx

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Danny Messer sighed contentedly as he shrugged into his jacket and rolled his neck to work out the kinks he had gained from sitting hunched over a desk - for at least five straight hours - completing the paper work on the Jane Hutchinson sexual assault case. It had been worth it; the evidence against Jane's attacker had been hard to come by but the paper work documented exactly what had been found, and where and how it tied Jane's ex boyfriend to the scene.

"You sound tired" Stella Bonasera stated as she strode into the room and over to her own locker, pulling her badge and gun off her belt and laying them down beside her on the bench.

"I am, but I got the day off tomorrow, plus the whole day planned out," Danny's mouth twitched on the verge of a smile, his blue eyes flashing behind rimless glasses "Mostly, I'm gonna sleep." He grinned the Cheshire cat grin he was known for and Stella couldn't help but smile back. Even as tired as she was that mischievous grin was infectious.

"Sounds like heaven," she admitted as Danny pulled a woolly black hat on over his dirty blonde hair "Be careful driving home, the weather report said there's gonna be another six inches of snow before midnight." She watched as he clipped his badge back onto his belt, followed by his cell phone, then his gun. "Is that in order of importance?" she asked him as he adjusted his coat to sit over the collection of items.

Danny looked down at his belt. " I guess I don't think about it, it's just how I always do it. Guess I'm a cop before I'm a shooter huh?" he chuckled as he looked up at her.

Stella smiled "I guess…have a good day tomorrow, we'll try and hold the fort down without you"

Danny raised an eyebrow jokingly "It'll be hard but just keep telling yourself I'll be back and you might be okay."

"Well you know we'll call you if we get desperate" Stella smirked as Danny walked out. " Bye"

"Bye Stel," Danny called back.

Mac Taylor strode into the room carrying a mug of coffee, and sat down heavily on the bench "He deserves a day off," he said of Danny, " he works way too hard sometimes." He quietly laughed, considering his phrasing too much of an understatement.

"He's dedicated, some people just are…you might even call them obsessive." Stella looked pointedly at Mac.

Mac laughed again and sipped the coffee. " He better not waste the day off I gave him, he's too good at his job for me to give him many days off as it is, so this is his last for a while." He grinned evilly and raised an eye brow at Stella.

" He'd probably agree with you if you told him that"

" Good, I like to know my people are confident, " Mac continued to smirk " So what are you doing right now?" Mac gave Stella a look she couldn't read.

" I was planning on going home to sleep…why?" she asked suspiciously.

" I need some help documenting some stuff is all, but if you're heading home for sleep…" he trailed off.

Stella sighed. " Fine, fine, I'll help," she snapped good naturedly. " But you have to buy me coffee later"

NYNYNY

Danny side stepped out of the way as the door to his building swung open sharply, narrowly missing hitting him in the face.

"Don't mind me" he muttered under his breath as the offenders, a couple arm in arm, staggered past him drunkenly.

Danny paused to make sure the various bags he was carrying were not going to fall, then caught the door with his foot and ducked in out of the cold and thickly falling snow

He paused again in the warm lobby to let the heated air give him back some of what the snow had stolen away. He hefted three large grocery bags, the back pack he used to carry his stuff to and from work, and the brown paper bags holding the makings of his dinner for the night and his food for the next day. As he walked toward the elevator, Danny ran through a mental check-list of the things he would use his free day for to get sorted out. 'Pay the bills, clean the bathroom, put that bookshelf together at last, start that book Hawkes let me borrow, defrost the fridge? No I need a weekend for that, check out that noise in the linen closet...' he rattled off. He stood by the elevator, letting a large, heavyset man press the button.

"Oh man, what a night!" A voice behind Danny said.

He half turned and smiled at the couple standing behind him who grinned back politely.

"It's gonna get worse," he said to them, sharing what Stella had told him.

"Oh?" the woman, who looked to be about forty, replied in alarm, "I hope not, or we'll all be snowed in!" She chuckled.

Danny nodded and went back to running through his list in his head.

The man standing near him who had pressed the button for the lift was swaying slightly, and as his arc brought him close to Danny, the CSI wrinkled his nose at the strong smell of whisky. He took a side step away as the smell brought back an odd feeling, a wave of nausea, not at the smell but at the dredges of memory the scent churned up.

Danny looked up at the man and suddenly felt very small. He shot a look at the clock hung on the wall over the lift. The guy was drunk at ten thirty at night. Danny shook his head in disgust as the elevator door 'binged' and slid open.

El Borracho, as Danny labelled him in his head, thanking his co worker and friend Aiden Burn for the Spanish phrase meaning 'drunk' staggered into the box. Danny reluctantly followed him, the older couple following Danny. El Borracho, Danny was dismayed to see, hit the button for Danny's floor.

"Could you hit two please?" The woman asked Danny from behind and to his right.

Danny grimaced and lifted a laden arm. "My hands are too full, I'm sorry."

The woman sighed and leaned around Danny to push the button, shooting him a less than friendly look. "My hands are full," Danny repeated a little too defensively as the woman shook her head.

Drunk guy lost his balance and stumbled into Danny as the lift lurched and began to rise, knocking one of Danny's bags from his hand. There was a smashing sound and a smell of spices. Danny sighed as he realised the sauce he had bought to go on his chicken had spilled. " Son of a bitch!" Danny spat automatically, crouching awkwardly to try and pick up the bag.

"What'd you say?" the drunkard growled, his speech slurring his words together.

"How can you be drunk this early?" Danny glared up at the guy. " It's ten thirty and you're wasted. What the hell?" Danny shook his head.

"You don't talk to me like that you little punk, you show me some damn respect!" the guy slurred.

"What? Go home and drink some coffee," Danny said dismissively, managing to pick the bag up.

"I told you," the drunkard grabbed Danny's upper arm, dragging Danny forward roughly, close enough that Danny gagged on the whisky smell of his breath. Once again Danny felt small and afraid and he didn't know why.

"Take your hand off've me. Now," Danny growled very quietly, letting some of that vicious hard-edge that quelled dangerous suspects and kept them from trying to take him on seep into his eyes and his voice.

The guy let go, but didn't move back or even appear abashed, standing barely inches away. " You show me respect or I'll kick your ass," The guy breathed.

"Go sober up, then get help," Danny stated flatly.

The lift stopped and the doors hissed open. Danny stepped away from the drunk, remembering the couple who had been riding the elevator with them.

The woman shot Danny a dirty look as her husband pulled her through the doors, and Danny raised a dismissive eyebrow at her, resisting the urge to call her a nasty name. He was pissed but he wouldn't take it out on the woman just because she was stuck up.

The lift lurched again and Danny stood quietly, watching EB out of the corner of his eye, some deep, hidden instinct telling him not to move again until he was sure the guy was distracted. The guy had thick brown hair, grown slightly long and tangled as though it hadn't been combed in a while. He had probably been a sportsman once, his broad shoulders and muscle running to fat physique speaking of maybe a football player, Danny wasn't sure. He could see that the man had been handsome once also, but too many hardships, too much drinking, had turned his blue eyes blood shot, creased his face prematurely. They reached their floor and the drunk staggered out into the corridor, digging into his jean pocket for keys. Danny followed carefully and was yet again dismayed to see the drunk reaching the door directly across from Danny's. Danny shifted the bags around and found his own keys, unlocking his door as quickly as he could. Behind him, EB gave up trying to unlock the door and just started banging the flat of his hand against it.

Danny actually paused and tried to figure out how he had never heard the inebriated jackass coming in before, then shook his head and let himself into his apartment. He kicked the door closed behind him and looked around the place he called home. He realised, as he set the grocery bags down, that he didn't really live in his apartment; it was just some where he came back to. He had added very few personal touches to the place in the two and a half years he had lived there, not because he didn't like to, but because he simply hadn't had the time. His apartment seemed cold, unlived in, not like a home at all.

"Shit," he stated softly, and with feeling as he realised how sad it was that he had been so tied to the job that he didn't even like coming home at the end of the day.

He shrugged out of his coat, automatically walking to the bedroom where he took his badge, gun and phone off his belt and laid them on the dresser. He changed from his work clothes into a pair of comfy jeans and black t-shirt over a long sleeved sweater, slipping a pair of battered old sneakers onto his feet, and wondering briefly why even when he was at home with nowhere to go he wore his shoes. One of his co workers - Aiden, Flack, he couldn't remember now - had commented to him once that he always seemed on alert, ready to run somewhere. And he had realised they were right that same night when he had gone home, changed into pyjama bottoms and nothing else, and slipped a pair of sneakers on while he sat and read a book.

Danny shrugged indifferently, walking over to the table. As he unpacked his groceries he could hear Drunk Guy still hammering on his own door and sighed again. Danny took a beer from out of his fridge and popped the cap off, taking a small sip as he worked. Danny lifted the broken jar out of the bag he had dropped and nodded his head briefly as he saw it was not so badly broken that he couldn't use the remaining sauce. The jar was oily, and as Danny lifted his beer bottle the neck slipped through his fingers and the bottle fell back to the table, beer frothing and flowing out, spilling onto the table and floor. Danny cursed and grabbed a nearby dish cloth, mopping up the beer even as it dripped. He moved the bottle over to the sink and poured the remains away, running the cloth under a tap to rinse out the beer. The kitchen reeked of beer and Danny debated whether he should open another or simply do with out. He chose the latter and began to pack away the groceries except those he would need to cook his dinner with, pausing only when he heard the hammering from across the hall stop.

El Borracho mumbled something, then the door closed with a solid bang and Danny went back to work.

Forty minutes later his kitchen still reeked of beer, but it also reeked of grilled chicken and spices too. Danny was loading his dishwasher, half listening to the T.V he had turned on in the living room, tuned in to some Kevin Costner film about a fading old baseball star and his cocky young rival.

Danny heard a thump, and a faint crash, and frowned, walking into the living room to stare at the screen in case the noise had come from there. The scene didn't seem to match the noises Danny had heard. He hit mute and listened again. There was a series of thumps and another crash, and Danny realised with a sinking feeling that the Drunk from the elevator was beating the crap out of some one in his apartment. Danny dropped the remote and moved for his door, running full tilt and throwing it open, then colliding with the door across the way. He hammered on El Borracho's door and feverishly hoped that whoever was trapped inside with the hulking man was hanging in there.


	2. Chapter 2

"Open up!" Danny yelled, pounding a fist against the door hard enough to hurt. "This is the police, open up!" He leaned against the door, hoping it was unlocked.

By some miracle, or perhaps thanks to drunkenness, the door was unlocked and swung inwards suddenly, causing Danny to stumble into the darkened apartment.

The lay out was essentially the same as his own, the front door opening into what was one large room made up of the kitchen and living room, with a low counter in the center creating a barrier, separating the two rooms. A short corridor led to a bathroom and two bed rooms, and it was in this direction that the sounds of violence came from.

The apartment was a dump, empty bottles and cans littering the floor, soiled plates, cups, mugs - signs that no one was taking the time to clean up between drinks. Danny noted, as he ran through the apartment, a child's dinner set, a small colourful plate, cutlery and cup cleaned and left to dry on the draining board in the kitchen. There where other signs of a child's presence, a worn old teddy bear tossed into a corner of the room, wax crayons still in the box laying beside a half completed drawing.

Danny's stomach churned and he had yet another dizzying moment of near paralysing fear. He looked into the first room and saw signs that it had, at one point, been a well decorated room for a little boy; space themed wallpaper, a child sized desk, a small bed, neatly made - now, Danny could see in dim lights from outside the window, the desk was supported by a cracked leg, the wall paper was ripped in places, stained and marked in others, the bed while neatly kept was sunken, as if the frame had been broken but never replaced. The room between was a small bathroom with a combination bath and shower, this room too was littered with empty bottles: whisky, vodka, tequila.

In the third and final room - the master bed room - the hulking, drunken man was holding a child of about six, a small boy, by the child's upper arm, identically to the way in which he had gripped Danny's arm in the elevator. The boy had a look of pure terror on his pale little face as the man, presumably his father, swung a meaty fist at him.

Danny ran in to the room, and grabbed the man by the back of his greasy brown hair, pulling back as hard as he could. The man tried to turn, his still moving fist ceasing as he half reached back over his own shoulder.

"NYPD pal, you're under arrest for child endangerment!" Danny **spat** as he automatically caught the guy's reaching hand and twisted it down to the small of **his** back in a practised, fluid movement.

The guy turned sharply, dragging the little boy with him, shocking the hell out of Danny who was pulled along too, tripping over something on the floor and loosing his grip on the man's arm, falling flat on his back with a grunt.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" The drunk roared, looming over Danny, the still constrained but seemingly forgotten child clutched in one hand.

"I told you man, I'm a cop and you're a drunken scum-bag, you're under arrest," Danny snarled, climbing carefully to his feet 'and kicking away obstructions scattered across the floor as he moved forward.

Something like a rug or blanket moved slid aside as he pushed it with his foot and Danny took a purposeful step toward the drunk, feeling that hard edge flow into his eyes, alter his stance just so. "You're under arrest," Danny repeated.

"Fuck you," The guy muttered, swinging his fist so fast Danny would have missed it if he had blinked. The guys knuckle connected with the side of Danny's head and Danny crashed painfully to the floor, sliding backwards slightly on the uncarpeted floorboards.

Danny's head rang and he shook it from side to side, retrieving his glasses from the floor where they had fallen from his face. He slipped them back on and stood again a little unsteadily. "So that's assaulting an officer too?" Danny looked up at the guy who was easily half a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than Danny.

"Get the fuck outta my house," The guy muttered distractedly, hitting Danny again, this time a blow to the chest that Danny felt crack a rib.

Danny gasped painfully but reached for the boy as the drunkard was turning away. Danny got an easy grip on the child's other arm and pulled him out of his father's hands, pushing him behind his own body as the man turned back.

"Gimme my kid!" the man snapped.

"Danny held the boy back with one hand as the child tried to peer around Danny. "He's coming out to the kitchen with me, and you're gonna stay in here until I call in backup, then you're going to jail," Danny stated in no uncertain terms.

"You gimme my kid or I'll break you neck you skinny little bastard!" The guy growled and Danny's head felt light as it flooded with memories from his own childhood, when his father had been asking for the bottle Danny had removed from his drunkenly limp hands.

Danny felt himself grow still as the memory washed over him like ice water, and the pause gave the man time to hit Danny, a solid punch to the face that sent Danny and the child he held behind him staggering backwards. The boy cried out loud as he darted out of the way of Danny's falling form, right into the hands of his father who jerked him into the air and dragged him out of the room.

Danny lay still for a heartbeat, letting his head clear, then rolled into a crouch and on to his feet in one catlike movement. He heard the sound of skin on skin and a child screaming, so followed the man out of the room and into the kitchen. The drunkard had slapped the boy to the ground and was reaching for him again as Danny charged at him and tackled him from behind. Danny and the man crashed into the wall, the guy's head leaving a crack in the plaster. He turned and elbowed Danny in the head, connecting with a loud crack. Danny grabbed the back of the guy's hair again and slammed the man's head against the wall, hard.

The guy pressed his hands to the wall as if he was doing a push up and tried to push himself backwards, so Danny jabbed him with two quick kidney shots, adding a kick to the inside of the guys knee. The man roared and slumped to the side as something in his knee gave way and Danny took a half step back. The guy didn't seem to be going anywhere so Danny turned to the little boy.

The child had curling black hair, grown a little long like his father, huge green eyes and an impish, heart shaped face with pale, almost glowing skin. "Are you okay?" The boy asked before Danny could even open his mouth.

"I'm fine, are you okay?" Danny asked a little breathlessly.

"I'm ok," the boy said meekly. "I'm used to it," he added.

"What's your name?" Danny crouched down so that the child wasn't intimidated, nor had to look up so high.

"Vincent," The boy replied. "My mom named me after some actor guy, she told me." Vincent had a child's version of the New York accent, his voice softening the sometime harsh twang.

"And your dad's name?" Danny resisted the urge to cough, knowing it would hurt.

"Jack"

"Vincent, I'm Danny, I'm a police man, you know what that is?" Danny asked, wincing at the pain in his side. The man behind him groaned.

"It means you're supposed to help me," Vincent stated.

Danny felt a stab of something that was not physical pain. It was a combination of guilt, sadness and a feeling of total empathy with the boy.

"You're right, it does mean I'm supposed to help, I would have helped before but I…I didn't know it was happening," Danny admitted, dropping his eyes away from the boy's face to hide his shame at having been living his life just across the hall while a child was suffering. "Where is your mother?" Danny skimmed over the shame he felt, telling himself he would deal with it later.

"She died, when I was four," Vincent told him, his accent twisting the number.

"My mom died too, when I was six," Danny said "She got sick but I never knew what with." Danny shrugged.

"How come you never knew?" Vincent frowned.

"My dad never told me, he just came home one night and she was gone…" Danny admitted.

He recalled the night perfectly, how his parents had left, arguing and snapping with one another earlier in the evening, leaving Danny alone, sleeping in his small bed.

Danny's father, Leo, had returned hours later looking pale and drawn, making enough noise as he staggered drunkenly into the house to wake Danny from his slumber. Danny, bleary eyed had wandered into the kitchen to find his father staring idly at his hands, rubbing his fingertips together in slow circles. 'Danny,' Leo had said hoarsely, 'Your mother…your mother was sick…she got sick and she died.' Leo, dark, Sicilian through and through unlike Danny and his Aryan looking German mother had turned to his son, his eyes blank and devoid of emotion. 'It's just us now kid, just you and me'.

"My mom had cancer," Vincent said, his confused voice telling Danny that Vincent didn't know what that meant.

"I'm sorry," Danny nodded his head slowly.

"Me too, I liked it better when she was around, I wish she would come back," Vincent shrugged one shoulder.

"Vincent where's your phone?" Danny asked, hating to seem callous but growing aware that he couldn't necessarily justify having entered the apartment.

"The kitchen," Vincent pointed vaguely.

"Show me?" Danny held out a hand for the boy to take, not wanting to leave the child alone with his father.

Vincent smiled and reached for Danny's hand.

Vincent's father grabbed Danny's collar from behind and pulled him back so hard that Danny left the ground. Danny grunted as he smashed against the wall, dropping like a stone to the floor. Jack kicked Danny, stomping on his ribs as Danny tried to crawl out of the way. Danny reached a small coffee table on which stood an empty wine bottle and grabbed at the bottle, wielding it like a club. As Jack kicked again, Danny ducked under the leg and swung the bottle, smashing it against the side of Jacks head. As Jack staggered to the side, Danny dropped the bottle's remains and swung, connecting with a solid uppercut, and felt his street instincts take over as the guy staggered back and Danny kept on hitting.

Danny let his instincts control his body as he ducked under Jack's attempts to hit back, moving like a boxer as he weaved and jabbed, blow after blow connecting with Jacks body and face. The part of Danny that was a cop reared its head and ceased his arms mid flow as Jack slumped to the ground, coughing and spitting bloody teeth.

"Shit," Danny breathed as he stared down at the bloodied man.

Vincent had darted behind the couch and peered out at Danny, his hair framing his eyes.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." Danny looked at Vincent as he wiped his hands on his jeans automatically.

"Look out!" Vincent pointed and Danny turned to see Jack sitting up, pulling a gun from beneath a battered coffee table. It had been hidden by the shadows beneath the wooden table and Danny just had time enough to curse himself for not asking Vincent about it before as Jack squeezed the trigger and a bang accompanied the slug that smashed into Danny's shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, this is chapter three, I forgot to put my disclaimers and everything on Chapter two so I have to remember to do them here, I DON'T OWN ANY OF CSI NY PROPERTIES ETC, I simply use them for my own wiles, Thanks again to Melissa my beta reader, she is HUGE help and a wonderfully nice person, warnings for violence and language etc, basically what you would expect from a noodlepie story! Please R+R its more useful than you can know! Oh and I know these chapters are short but I like to think its quality over quantity, so enjoy.**

**xxxxx**

**NYNYNY**

Mac set the ceramic mug down across from Stella and took a seat in the comfy - if somewhat overstuffed - armchair, picking up a cookie from the plate that had been **set** down on the table as soon as they had picked it.

Around them, despite the relatively late hour, various people sat at low, normal or high tables some sipping coffee and similar drinks, some tucking into tasty looking meals, others just sitting and talking to one another or alone, reading or working in note or sketch books.

"What's this place called again?" Mac took a tiny sip of his coffee, raising an eyebrow in surprise at the flavour the girl with the numerous piercing's working behind the counter had added; vanilla essence, which Stella had suggested he order, actually tasted good.

"The Retreat. It's one of Danny's little…underground, artist, broody type places…I don't know how he finds them, he just brought me here one day after work when I suggested we get some dinner," Stella shrugged.

It had been difficult to find, the coffee house was more or less built into the corner of a huge basement room which had been converted into a space for a flea market. It was clearly not a yuppie hide out, everyone in there looked like they would happily poor their delicious coffee over your head if you even mentioned a Starbucks or Macdonald's as alternative venues for a caffeine fix or meal. But then Mac would probably do that too if someone asked him to eat at Macdonald's.

"Danny found this place?" Mac took a bite of the cookie-it was ginger, but there was a hint of something else, maybe cinnamon but he couldn't be sure, that gave it an extra something.

"Yeah," Stella raised an eyebrow, smirking as Mac took another cookie.

"He's an odd one," Mac mused, chuckling. "I mean, I can't picture him in a place like this, can you?" He looked over at her.

"I thought that when he brought me, but he seemed right at home, everyone seemed to know him…that's his over there." She pointed over Mac's shoulder.

Mac turned to see a large painting occupying a space on one of the walls. It seemed to have been firstly sketched in charcoal, then streaks of colour had been added to emphasize and highlight certain areas of the painting. Mac didn't know how he could tell but the painting - which was actually a series of smaller pictures almost like a story board, but much more intricately woven - seemed to show Danny's life from his time as a baseball player, through his career ending injury, and into his life as a cop. There was a blurred patch in the middle that Mac guessed was supposed to represent the fight which left Danny with a broken arm, the injury which took away his chance to be a pro baseball player. It was incredible.

"Whoah," Mac looked back at Stella, "He did that!"

"Yup. And he didn't even point it out to me. I noticed it, even commented on it, then a waiter came over and said that people had been asking when there would be another one and some guy had offered to print the painting off as posters so people could have copies to take home!" Stella grinned widely, "Danny's got a lot of little secrets about himself." She laughed heartily, picking up her mug and holding it between two hands.

Mac frowned at that. "Yeah…he does…" he idly crumbled a biscuit between two fingers "I don't like that he's so secretive…I don't mean that in a hard-ass boss kind of way - not totally - but it worries me that he keeps so much of himself obscure…" Mac sighed. "it could land him in trouble one day,"

**NYNYNY**

Danny lay on his back, vaguely aware he was hurt, fully aware something was wrong. He could hear a distant muffled yelling, as if some one was shouting through a voice distorter, and there was a growing, nagging awareness of a pain in his body, a sensation of liquid fire radiating out from his right shoulder. Danny coughed, once, the movement sending more rivulets of pain coursing through his ribs, rivulets which met the liquid fire and became a gushing current of agony that stole the breath frojohm his lungs and left him gasping as he fought to breath.

"Stupid Bastard," the distorted voice began to drift into something Danny could comprehend. "You shouldn't'a come in here! Stupid fuckin' bastard, look what you made me do!" The voice belonged to Jack, Danny recalled the name - the hulking man who had been battering his own son.

"You're dead," Danny breathed hoarsely, his voice gaining strength as he somehow managed to sit up, "You're dead!" The breath had become a shout.

"What're you gonna do, huh?" Jack, Danny saw - his instincts taking over once again and scoping out the whole room, the whole messed up scene - still held the gun, waving it around as he spoke. He wasn't threatening anyone with it but some how the vague arcs it made as Jack paced back and forth were more frightening than if he had been pointing it directly at Danny.

"You just shot a cop pal, you're dead," Danny's voice dipped again but picked up strength at the end.

He wondered why he couldn't hear sirens approaching, but the thoughts left him as he saw Vincent huddled in a corner, his eyes red from crying, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees.

"It's okay Vincent, don't worry, it's gonna be okay," Danny assured the boy even as he pressed his left hand to the wound in his shoulder, wincing and feeling sick as more pain coursed through him.

"You're bleeding," Vincent whispered.

Danny looked down and blinked in dull shock at the pool of blood that lay beside him, spreading even as he watched. It was not a lot of blood, the CSI part of his brain noted. _Not a fatal amount but I need help._ Danny nodded slowly, trying not to panic

" **Yeah,** I am, but not seriously, not badly, but I do need a doctor…Vincent can you get out of the apartment, is there a way you could escape?" Danny asked as Jack paced back and forth directly in front of the door, **distracted by his own drunken stupor**.

"Yes," Vincent replied softly.

"When I count to three, show me," Danny struggled **to** **move and **found himself able to crouch as Jack stumbled drunkenly over his own feet and thumped against the door.

"Okay," Vincent stood, ducking slightly so he did not attract so much attention. He held out his hand and Danny took it, cursing inwardly at the blood on his skin.

"One…two…" Danny had his eyes fixed on Jack who turned sharply, staggering again and falling to the ground, only just catching himself. " Three!" Danny hissed and Vincent sprang to his feet and ran, pulling Danny with him.

They rushed down the short corridor to the bathroom and Vincent made a bee line for the window, letting go of Danny's hand to push the window open, grunting slightly with the effort. Danny helped with his uninjured left arm even as Jack shouted out behind them and there came a series of thumps as he began to follow them.

Vincent climbed nimbly out of the window and on to the fire escape, into the still falling snow, moving aside to let Danny follow. Danny struggled through, finding it harder to use his injured shoulder, **yet** was making good progress when Jack appeared in the doorway.

"Come'ere!" he roared, grabbing at Danny.

Danny was momentarily gripped by another moment of paralysis as Jack wrapped a hand around his ankle, trying to drag him back through the window.

In Danny's mind, Jack was not sandy haired and bulky, he was black haired, lean and sinewy, his skin darkened by his Sicilian heritage.

Vincent screamed again and Danny snapped back to the present, reaching back and grabbing at Jack's face, poking his thumb into Jack's eye sharply.

Jack yelled in surprise and Danny pushed him back wards, leaving a bloody handprint on the man's face.

Vincent helped Danny out of the window as Jack groaned resignedly and turned his back on them.

He spun suddenly and threw a bottle at the window, sending shards of glass out after Vincent and Danny. Vincent had clearly done this before as he began to expertly navigate the ladders, directing Danny where the slippery or loose rungs were as they climbed down.

They reached the bottom and Danny's legs gave out beneath him. He hit the floor and stayed there for a second until a shout came from above. " I'm comin for you kid!" Jack's voice echoed down the alley way, sounding almost sad and desperate, as if he were a truly loving father promising to rescue his son from some villain.

"Come on," Danny forced himself to stand, wrinkling his nose at the filthy looking puddle he had lain in.

He grabbed Vincent's hand and pulled him aside as Jack threw another bottle out of the window, the glass shattering and splintering as it hit a ladder rung so that glass rained down over the alley.

Danny looked up the alley and saw the entrance blocked by bags and piles of garbage, creating a barrier that he would have had trouble climbing over even when healthy. Covered in a layer of snow it looked impossible to even attempt.

He turned and looked back, spotting a worn, wooden door at the back of the alley, almost hidden by rotted posters that peeled back from the damp brick like dead skin.

"Where does that go?" Danny looked down at Vincent.

"I don't know," Vincent shrugged innocently.

" We gotta go in there," Danny shook his head, pulling the child along with him.

Jack was moaning above them as Danny aimed a solid kick at the space in the door where the handle should be. The old wood gave **way** easily and the door swung open, revealing nothing but darkness.

"I don't like it," Vincent pulled at Danny's hand.

Danny nodded grimly but another bottle sailed through the night, this one smashing barely a foot away, a shard of glass zipping past Vincent's face close enough to cut him.

Vincent screamed and grabbed at the bloody slice in his skin, and Danny pulled him into the door way, not through the door, just out of range of the bottles.

"Come one kid, it's the only way, please!" Danny frowned pleadingly.

Vincent nodded and gripped Danny's hand again, tighter than Danny would have thought a child could.

Together, they stepped into the dark as above them Jack screamed for them to come back.

**NYNYNY**

Jack Theroux groaned as he saw his son and the blonde stranger disappear through the door. Or he thought he saw them go, his vision was less than perfect after more than a few drinks since four pm that day.

He turned back and looked at the now empty apartment, shaking his head wearily, feeling nauseous as he did so. He hiccoughed, which almost became a full blown gag, but a hard swallow ceased any vomit from rising.

"Shit," he muttered, staggering through the apartment to the kitchen where he had dropped the gun. He knew he needed to get rid of it, he remembered firing it at the man-had he claimed to be a cop? Jack recalled the blonde saying something about being NYPD but he was too drunk to care.

He found the gun lying near the door and used the end of his shirt to wipe his prints off it, some half forgotten memory making him do so. As he wiped the gun he wondered if the guy was really a cop. He wasn't watching where he walked so when he tripped over one of his own empties and fell, the gun went off, drilling a neat little hole in his forehead. Unseen by him as he died on the floor, the gun slid across the linoleum and disappeared under the fridge.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello my readers, this is chapter four, poor Danny, it just gets harder and harder for him! Same disclaimers for language and violence, i dont own any of the CSI gangs, what ever state they live in!

Thanks again to melissa, she makes writing this so much more fun than it is on its own! Enjoy.xx

* * *

Danny gritted his teeth as he and Vincent walked side by side into the gloom. Danny was not normally afraid of the dark, but this was not a normal situation; far from it in fact. And this was not the 'city darkness' that Danny was used to - which was not darkness at all really, just slightly less light - this was serious darkness; shadows within deeper shadows. The old room which seemed to have been a storage room at one point had been boarded up long before. In the dim light from the still open door way, Danny could see maybe five feet into the gloom, after which everything else was near impossible to see. The darkness was a solid wall, seamless enough that Danny felt he would injure himself if he walked into it.

"Scary," Vincent whispered into the darkness.

A bitingly cold breeze whistled through the door, curling snowflakes around Danny and Vincent's legs. Vincent reached out and took Danny's right hand, making Danny jump when he realized how cold his skin must have been, as Vincent felt feverish.

"Shit," Danny hissed again "We gotta get out of here, get to help," he told Vincent as the boy huddled close to him against the wind.

Vincent Looked up at Danny. "I don't wanna go in the dark."

Danny met the boy's eyes and felt himself agreeing whole heartedly. "But we don't have a choice, we can't go back." Danny tried to squeeze the boys hand reassuringly and found it unnervingly difficult.

"Are you sure?" Vincent's voice held a kind of empty hope.

"'Fraid so kid." Danny gave him a half smile, trying to pretend he didn't feel as nauseous as he did.

He felt the gorge rising in his throat and span away from Vincent painfully, remembering at least to stretch his neck out as he puked so as not the get anything on his shoes. He hadn't eaten enough in the past few hours to do anything more than heave but it was agony with his injured shoulder and ribs, which just made him gag harder - the cycle repeating until eventually he dropped to his knee's, shaking and breathless, gritting his teeth to try and stop another gag from rising.

"You okay?" Vince asked in a small, fearful voice.

Danny took a single deep, slow breath, then another, over and over again until he felt the nausea passing. He nodded, very slowly as it caused another painful twinge in his shoulder. "I'm good," he rasped, his voice hoarse.

He spat until the taste of vomit left his mouth. Something appeared on the edge of his vision and he flinched instinctively, jumping as the movement sent yet more pain to his shoulder.

He squinted at the thing which he slowly realised was a tube of breath mints. He followed the small hand, and arm, up to Vincent's open, honest face. "I like mints." the kid gave a simple, half shrug and a kind little smile.

"You do?" Danny asked as he reached, with his good arm, for the tube.

"Yeah…I puke a lot too, if dad hits me in the stomach, so I keep lots of mints to take the bad taste away." Vincent squeezed two mints out of the wrapping paper for Danny to take, pressing his free hand to Danny's forehead.

His hand was cold and Danny jumped again, flinched again, groaning through gritted teeth as the wave of pain passed.

He chewed on the mints, rolling them around in his mouth to reach as much of the sickly taste as possible until he felt he had gotten it all. His teeth still felt dirty, gritty, but the taste was gone and that was what he wanted.

"Thanks," Danny rasped, shuffling carefully back along the floor, away from the puddle he had made.

"You're really warm," Vincent told him as Danny slowly stood.

"Exercise, makes you sweat," Danny explained, staring again around the dark room.

"Yeah, I know, but it feels like a fever," the child stated firmly.

"How can I be feverish?" Danny frowned down at the boy.

"I don't know." Vincent looked up at him with eyes that contained a deep intelligence beyond the boy's tender years.

Danny looked back down and found himself smirking. "You're something else kid you know that?" He grinned.

Vincent smiled back "Thanks!" he chuckled, seeming like a different child all of a sudden despite the nightmare they were now caught up in.

"You're not stupid at all," Danny stated, taking a slow step forward, checking his own balance.

"No way, I got moved up a bunch of grades," Vincent spoke conversationally "It was kinda hard at first, the work I mean, but now its boring again, so they wanna move me up some more grades but my dad doesn't read the letters so I don't know what's gonna happen," he added, taking hold of Danny's hand again.

"When we get some help, we'll find some people who can help you with that, put you in the right places," Danny assured the child. "You'll get all the advantages you need, I promise"

"You don't have to lie," Vincent said, his voice containing no hint of bitterness, "if you don't want to"

Danny squeezed the boy's hand gently. "I'm not lying, you deserve better that what you got, a lot better, don't ever let any one tell you different," he stated.

Vincent shrugged then changed the subject easily in that way only children can, not because they wanted to avoid certain questions, but because they where bored.

"So you're a cop?" The kid asked as they walked further into the darkness.

Danny headed for the nearest wall, figuring the best way to avoid getting , and too find a door or window to escape through, would be to stick close to the walls.

"Yup," Danny told him when they reached the wall.

"You got a gun?" Vincent asked.

"Yeah I do, not on me though," Danny admitted.

"You ever shoot any body?" Vincent looked up at him, all innocence and curiosity.

Danny gritted his teeth as another wave of pain washed over him as he tried not to relive the memories of the officer involved shooting that had almost cost him his career; that had cost a man his life.

"Well…no, not exactly," Danny frowned slightly. "There've been a few times when I've had to pull my gun and one time when there was some…confusion and a guy died," he said, keeping his voice blank.

"Did you do it?"

"I…honestly don't know," Danny sighed and looked down at the kid, squinting slightly to see him in the ever dimming light.

"You ever been shot before?" Vincent continued his probing.

"Nope, and yes, it really hurts," Danny added before Vincent could ask it.

Vincent smiled and went back to squinting ahead as Danny edged slowly along.

Danny was walking so that his injured right shoulder was held about an inch away from the wall, the back of his hand touching the wall. He was concentrating on the feel of the wall against his hand, for a change in texture from the brick and mortar. The wall was scratching his hand slightly but Danny's hand was somewhat worryingly numb, so it didn't hurt.

"How far will we have to go?" Vincent asked as they took another slow step away from the light.

"Into this building?" Danny thought about it. "I have no idea, there should be another door, not so far in...if we stay close to the wall we should find it." He squeezed the boys hand again. " Think of it like an adventure, like we're…explorers!" Danny tried to chuckle.

"Explorers of what, the seventh circle of hell?" Vincent gave Danny another one of those mature expressions.

Danny actually had to pause and let himself grin until his face ached "You're seriously not like any other kid I ever met in my whole life Vincent," he told the boy.

Vincent shrugged again and raised his free hand to his mouth, chewing a nail idly.

They started walking again and Danny let his mind drift.

**NYNYNY**

Detective Don Flack raised his eyebrows at the sludge that had oozed into his mug, claiming to be coffee. "Ew!" he exclaimed quietly, rinsing out both his mug and the pot and setting up a fresh pot of coffee, heading back to the small table in the break room while it brewed.

He picked up the worn old manilla folder he had carried in with him and flicked it open to the page he had marked with a regular book mark, settling down to read.

The files where old, closed cases that Flack occasionally checked out, partly to keep himself aware of old MO's, learned in old methods of policing and investigation. But the main reason was very basic. They where interesting. Some of the files where forty or more years old, the detectives and criminals they told, long since dead. Flack loved to read the old detective's personal notes, the little doodles and observations they had made in the margins of the sheets of neat writing they had left behind. There was one particular detective who had filled whole shelves and storage boxes with files on a mafia family. The detective was named Eddie Walsh and it seemed to Don that every film noir detective ever created was based on Eddie.

Don chuckled as he read a note Eddie had left, a description of a prostitute who had visited one of the higher ranking 'soldiers' of the family. The woman, it seemed, bore an unnerving resemblance to Eddie's mother in law, too revealing outfit included.

A high pitched beep derailed his train of thought and Don reached for his cell phone without needing to look.

He raised it to eye level and groaned as the read-out on the screen told him it was dispatch.

"Flack," he sighed, less than enthusiastically as he pressed 'answer' and held the phone to his ear.

"Shots fired, possible DB," a bored sounding dispatcher told him, rattling off the address as Flack dug out a pen and his notebook.

He had the woman repeat the address, read it back to confirm it and thanked her.

He hung up his cell and turned to the coffee pot, grinning to see it was ready for him to pour. There where stacks of polystyrene mugs beside the coffee pot and Don picked one up, pouring himself some coffee to take with him. The aromatic black liquid was perfect, and as Flack reached for a lid for the cup, he frowned, setting the cup down as an alarm went off in his head. He turned back to his notebook and stared down at the address, wondering why he suddenly felt ill.

"What…?"Flack shook his head slowly as if trying to knock the memory loose and picked up the notebook, holding it close to his face and squinting at the letters until they became a meaningless blur.

He thought to himself that this must be how Danny felt without his glasses and then he realised; The address, the building, the apartment, _the dead body_, it was Danny's place. Flack had been there dozens of times, had helped Danny move in, had gotten drunk there that same night, having to sleep on the couch when Danny wouldn't let him drive home, then having to give up the couch to Stella when she had decided that if there was to be a sleepover she wanted in too.

"Oh Shit," Don said softly and with feeling.

He ran for the door, punching Danny's home number into his cell as he went, the old case file and the coffee already forgotten.

**NYNYNY**

Mac was glad that he and Stella had left the café/restaurant when his cell phone rang, as a band had started playing just before they decided to go; a quiet little jazz group who Mac had decided he would definitely like to see more of, based on what he had heard as he and Stella had paid their bill.

His cell phone would have disrupted the bands performance, and Mac didn't want it to be black listed in the establishment. Smiling as tightly as Stella, Mac answered the phone, rolling his eyes as if to say 'it never ends'.

Stella chuckled, shrugging into her jacket as they walked through the still bustling flea market. She was idly perusing the stalls, eyeing up a cute little necklace when she realised that Mac was not behind her any more. He had stopped walking several feet back, and was snapping questions and orders into his phone. Stella walked back to meet him, frowning as he clicked the cell phone shut and headed for the exit.

"Flack got a call from dispatch, shots fired and a possible dead body in Danny's building, Flack called Danny's home phone and his cell and got nothing," Mac told her, his voice tight, strained with barely contained emotion.

"Who called it in?" Stella asked, slipping into cop mode automatically, even though her brain had gone into overdrive as her imagination threw up dozens of possible scenarios.

"A neighbour reported hearing an altercation then a gun going off." Mac pulled the door open, charging out into the snow "Flack's calling Aiden and she's gonna meet us over there with the kits." Mac didn't stop to pull his hat or gloves on, simply ran for his car, his face grim.

**NYNYNY**

Danny was sitting in the principals office, staring down at his hands in his lap. His knuckles where cut and bruised, dirty where he had fallen in a muddy puddle. He sighed tiredly rolling his eyes as the principal stared at him over the top of Danny's own personal school file.

"Your father will be here soon Danny, you still have time to tell me exactly what happened. Maybe save yourself some trouble?" The skinny, greasy looking little man set down the file and steepled his fingers, fixing Danny with what he - the principal - thought was a piercing glare.

Danny raised a distinctly unimpressed eyebrow. Even at nine he knew a nobody when he saw one. "I got nothing to say," Danny shrugged, wiping at his still bloody nose with the back of his hand.

"You _have_ nothing to say," the principal corrected him. "Danny, this isn't the first fight you've gotten into, and it certainly wont be the last." The man's face softened slightly. "Danny you're a smart kid, I know that, your teachers know that, yet you still persist in getting into these fights, usually with bigger, stronger kids…what's going on, is this to do with your mother?" the man laid his hands flat on the desk.

"You don't talk about her," Danny stated automatically.

"When half of your bad behaviour seems to stem from her death? I think we have to talk about her Danny." The man tilted his head on the side slightly.

"No we don't so you just shut your mouth," Danny's voice was unwavering, the threatening tone not idle but something to be wary of.

"Danny, I'm not one of your classmates, I'm your principal," the principal reminded him.

Danny opened his mouth to tell the man that he didn't give a crap but the door to the office swung open and Leo Messer strode into the room, water dripping from his jacket. "God damn it's rainin' hard!" he snapped, dropping heavily into the empty chair beside Danny. "What the hell you call me out in this for?" Leo reached over and ruffled Danny's hair affectionately.

"Danny was fighting again." The principal smoothly ignored Leo's language, and the strong smell of whisky coming off the man's clothes and breath.

"So?" Leo shrugged.

"So, Mr Messer, this isn't the first time. Danny seems to have a problem with aggression, with working with other kids-" The principal started to list.

"Why did you fight the kid Danny?" Leo turned to Danny, interrupting the principal.

"He slapped Marissa Muscatelli in the face and took her lunch box," Danny told his father without hesitation.

"What!" the principal snapped "Why wouldn't you tell me that?" The man rose from his desk and stormed over to the door, yanking it open and leaning out. "Sally, will you have Jake Carter come in here please," he barked.

Leo grinned at Danny, ruffling his son's hair again.

A heavy set boy shuffled into the office moments later, glaring at Danny with undisguised anger.

"You're dead Messer," the boy snapped angrily. "You just wait,"

"Whatever," Danny shrugged.

"Jake, did you slap Marissa Muscatelli?" the principal sighed.

Danny fixed Jake with the same look he would give Vincent's father 20 years later and Jake's face crumpled. "Only one time and he didn't have to pound on me!" the boy yelled, his voice breaking.

"Well you know what…I'm gonna need to talk with your parents then and don't expect this to go well for you," The principal snapped. " And Danny…go home, get cleaned up and I'll see you in detention for the rest of the week, please just learn when to talk to a teacher." The principal shook his head.

Leo stood and scooped his son up into his arm and shot Jake a look "You watch yourself around my boy kid, he's tougher than he looks," the bulky man chuckled.

Danny smiled triumphantly from his seat in the crook of his fathers arm. "You wanna go for a burger for lunch?" Leo asked his son as he carried him out of the office.

"Yeah!" Danny giggled.

They collected Danny's belongings and Leo carried his son all the way out of the school, through the rain, and across the road to his parked pick up truck.

He lifted Danny into the car, letting his son slide across so that he could climb in. Leo keyed the ignition as Danny pushed his bag and jacket down into the well under his feet, pulling his seat belt across his body.

Leo sniffed and leaned across the seat, punching Danny in the side of the head, hard. Danny slumped briefly in his seat, then sat back up, rubbing at the spot on his head where his father had struck him, 'owing' quietly.

"I don't wanna get called out in the rain again," Leo told his son.

"Alright" Danny nodded rubbing his head.

"Lemme see," Leo gripped Danny's chin and turned the boy's head so he could see the spot where he had struck him. "It's not bad," he sniffed again. "Where did that kid hit you?" he turned Danny's head again, trying to see more of his face.

Danny twisted out of his dad's grip. "As if that loser ever landed a hit on me!" Danny frowned.

"What, you're invincible now?" Leo chuckled huskily as he pulled the car out of the parking space and into the ever increasing traffic.

Danny smiled to himself, leaning against the door to gaze out of the window as Leo drove the car toward a local diner they were both fond of. Danny pressed one small hand to the window, tracing the drops of rain as they flowed down.

"Well?" Leo leaned over again, ruffling the boy's hair, and poking and tickling his son's back.

Danny giggled, pushing his fathers arm away. Staring up at the low, grey sky, Danny whispered to himself, "I'm superman"

"Danny?" Vincent's voice cut through Danny's memories, dragging him back to the present.

"Whatsamatter?" Danny blinked, feeling as though he had been woken from a deep sleep.

"Is that a door?" Vincent was pointing across Danny's body.

Danny turned and looked at what was indeed, a wooden door set into the brick.

Danny realised he hadn't noticed the change in the texture of the wall, from the rough brick to the smooth, if old, wood.

He stared down at his own hand, trying to wiggle his fingers. They moved, but Danny couldn't feel the motion, wouldn't have known it had he not seen it.

"Is it a door?" Vincent repeated, tugging on Danny's good arm.

"Yeah, yeah I think it is," Danny replied hoarsely, pulling his hand free to press against the door.

He felt for and found a door handle and twisted it without much hope. It moved, not smoothly but jerkily. There was a creak, the sounds of the handle working.

"Vincent if I pull the handle can you push the door?" Danny asked, putting more weight on the handle.

Vincent nodded and pushed the door as hard as he could, kicking the base and corner of the door to loosen it from the door frame. The door was old, it had warped in its frame but Vincent was kicking it in just the right places.

The door slid open half an inch, then a few inches more. It was open enough that the handle was unimportant and Danny helped Vincent in pushing and kicking the door as it slid, jerking and screeching across the floor. It opened to reveal another wide open space, another warehouse, but this one was not quite so dark, so foreboding.

"Hey, looking up?" Danny asked as he and Vincent walked into the room.

"I guess," Vincent said jokingly, rolling his eyes.

"Hey at least there's a little light" Danny nodded to the one or two windows that had not been boarded up. There was amber light coming through the windows, the grainy sodium light of street lamps.

It was still cold, bitingly cold, but they had gotten somewhere at least.

"There should probably, hopefully, be some people near here who can help us," Danny said, "but I need to sit down for a little while, is that okay?"

"Sure," Vincent nodded.

Danny looked around the room, spotting a few old crates and boxes. He and Vincent headed straight for them, Vincent running ahead to move the boxes to make more of a seat for Danny.

Danny marvelled as the child moved the boxes around, making both a seat and a back rest. Vincent then ran back to Danny, taking his arm and walking with him over to the 'chair'.

"Thanks kid," Danny smiled painfully as Vincent helped him lower into the seat.

Danny winced again as more pain shot through his body and he gripped Vincent's arm without thinking, hissing between clenched teeth.

"Sorry," he spat, forcing him self to let go of Vincent's arm as the boy winced, pretending unsuccessfully as if he wasn't in pain. "I'm sorry kid, did I hurt you?" Danny let his hand curl into a fist.

"No," Vincent lied, his voice soft.

"I didn't mean that, it's just that, I'm pretty hurt," Danny explained. "Could you help me with something?" he looked over at the boy.

"Sure," Vincent's voice grew strong again and he moved closer to Danny.

"Okay, I've been shot, so I need something to pack the wound with. So I need you to run and find something, like maybe a sheet, and bring it back here," Danny stated and Vincent nodded and jogged away.

"So what's your favourite movie?" Danny yelled, making sure Vincent could hear his voice and didn't get lost or wander off.

"Willow!" Came Vincent's reply.

"Yeah? That's mine too!" Danny laughed, halting as it made his arm hurt again.

"I love the little baby in it," Vincent continued. " She was so cute, and the guy, Willow, did you know, he was only seventeen when he played that character? The actor I mean?" Vincent asked.

Danny did know but he played along. "No kidding? That's cool!" Danny yelled "What other films do you like?" Danny asked.

Vincent jogged back into view, a bundle of rags in his arms.

"Good job!" Danny grinned.

"Okay, so I'll find the cleanest ones then I'll…what do want, like a bandage?" Vincent asked.

"Yeah, but you're gonna need to look at it first, so you'll have to help me with this shirt." Danny waved his good hand at the wound "You'll need to pull it away from the bullet hole, wipe as much blood away as you can and then tell me what you see." Danny explained as Vincent sorted through the rags.

Vincent nodded and leaned over, pinching the blood soaked cloth between a thumb and forefinger. He pulled it away from Danny's skin, apologising as Danny winced and hissed painfully.

The wound was actually high on Danny's chest, or low on his shoulder, depending on how one looked at it.

Vincent gripped Danny's collar and pulled it as low as he could. "Gross" Vincent breathed, grimacing as the wound came into view.

He picked up one of the cleaner looking rags and wiped gently at the wound. Some of the blood had dried around the ragged hole, so Vincent wiped at the blood oozing out of the wound. He hesitated as Danny jerked away from the rag immediately. "Sorry," Vincent looked up at him.

"No, its okay," Danny closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. "Just keep going,"

Vincent wiped at the wound again, but the blood still oozed. As Vincent wiped over and over, the blood flow began to steadily increase. Vincent pressed the rag to the hole, applying pressure as hard as he dared. "I'm gonna make a compress," Vincent explained.

He reached for more rags but Danny stopped him.

"Take a look at the back, see the exit wound, it might be bleeding worse," Danny said.

Vincent nodded and leaned around to pull the shirts down at the back. He frowned, pressing a hand to the smooth, unmarked skin. "There's no hole," Vincent told Danny.

"What?" Danny half turned his head.

"There isn't a hole at the back, the bullet never came out I don't think." Vincent frowned apologetically.

"Oh, shit…um, okay, well then just keep workin' at this wound then." Danny shrugged with his good arm.

Vincent continued wiping at the wound, pressing harder to try and clean it as much as he could. He would press hard, then wipe at the blood that flowed out, half remembering something he had read once about how to clean a wound. He kept at it until he was satisfied, then discarded the used rag, reaching for a new one. He pressed that rag to the wound, folding it into a compress, then reached for another one and tied it over the compress, then looped it over Danny's shoulder so that he could tie it tight.

Danny's eyes where pressed shut behind his miraculously intact glasses. Tears had cut tracks in the dirt on his face and he had bitten into his bottom lip hard enough that he had almost broken the skin.

"You okay?" Vincent asked quietly, not used to seeing a grown man cry.

"Yeah," Danny whispered "It just…it really hurts." he sniffed, wiping at his face with his good hand. "You're not squeamish are you?" Danny muttered.

"Well I clean up after my dad a lot…one time he came home stabbed and I had to clean him and stitch him up and everything…I hadn't ever done anything like it but he said it was like sewin up clothes, and I'm real good at that. He got totally wasted too, so he didn't feel nothing? That was kinda gross but after that I just started practicing sewing up bacon pieces! Plus, sometimes I have to clean up where my dad has hit me too hard…once he cut me real good with a bottle" Vincent held out his arm so Danny could se the ragged scar on his fore arm. "I couldn't sew that up, I just had to wrap it in bandages for the longest time!" he gave a sad little smile.

Danny's eyes fixed on the scar and he felt sick as he realised he had similar scars, all over his body. He found that he was gripping the edge of the box on which he sat hard enough that it hurt his uninjured hand and he couldn't look at Vincent any more, switching his gaze instead to a far corner of the room while he tried to work out how he could get access to Jack once this was all sorted out and show the man that you didn't beat on children.

"You wanna still try to find a door?" Vincent asked quietly.

Danny still needed to take a few deep breaths before he could speak. "Yes, we have to get out of here, it's the main thing, we need to get help," he replied.

"Ok." Vincent stood, helping Danny to stand with him.

Danny swayed dangerously on his feet, feeling his eyes fluttering closed.

He felt that wave of dizziness one gets from sitting still for too long, and had to steady himself on Vincent's shoulder.

"Whoa," he breathed as the wave passed, leaving him feeling drained of energy. "Danny?" Vincent asked fearfully.

"I'm fine, I'm okay," Danny lied. "Just be ready to move outta the way if I fall over." He forced out a weak chuckle.

Vincent took his hand again, and they headed for the windows that where not boarded up. They peered out but it was hard to see out of the window due to the snow that had piled up along the ledge.

"You know where we are?" Danny asked the kid.

"Nope," Vincent said. "But how far away can we be from our building?" he added.

"Good point, but I didn't know these buildings were here and I don't know how to get from here to…well to somewhere where there could be help," Danny admitted.

"Well we gotta find a door, first things first," Vincent stated.

They stayed close to the wall, to the windows and the light, and Danny and Vincent both trying to pretend that there wasn't blood dripping off the end of Danny's fingers.

They came to another door, one which opened much easier than the first, and found themselves outside.

Danny gazed out over what could have been a disused parking lot, for all the distinctions they could make in the snow. "I don't recognize any of this."

"We should just head for….people?" Vincent looked up at him.

Danny nodded and they headed out into the snow. Danny pulled Vincent closer to him, trying to shield the boy from the cold as much as he could.

They ducked their heads into their shoulders, hunched them selves over as much as possible against the cold, and walked on.

**NYNYNY**

"Alright so what does it look like?" Mac looked at Stella and Aiden, gazing down at the corpse of Jack Theroux as Sheldon Hawkes examined the body.

"It looks like…based on what the neighbours are saying? Like…" Stella took a deep breath, seemingly to build her own confidence. "Based on Danny's apartment, Danny was drinking and came over here for some reason and got into it with Jack. Based on the blood in the den, somebody got seriously injured, maybe that was where Jack was killed then…Danny I guess, moved Jack here and bailed…taking the kid with him," she dead-panned, her voice devoid of emotion.

"But that's not right because Danny wouldn't just randomly kill a guy, we're missing something," Aiden put in.

"Yeah, the gun. Danny must have taken it with him" Mac snapped irritably.

"Why?" Stella shot back. "Why would Danny have even left?"

"Maybe he took the gun to subdue the kid and he left because he's guilty of murder?" Mac spat.

"You think Danny killed this guy on purpose?" Flack walked up behind Mac.

"This man was all but executed, for gods sake its practically even mob style! We know Danny has mob connections…maybe this is an extension of that…or maybe, once again, Danny got too worked up and this is the result. You said yourself Stella, we don't know Danny that well at all. Maybe there are some things about his personality we need to be aware of. Maybe this is a side we haven't seen before!" Mac all but growled.

"Mac, what the hell?" Flack snapped "Where is this coming from?" He frowned at the older man.

"How many times in the last eighteen months has Danny done something that makes us question where his loyalties lie…maybe this is just a result of all of that." Mac sounded suddenly weary.

"Maybe, we stop guessing and assuming and examine the evidence-this guy Theroux was clearly drinking…look at the apartment, he wasn't taking care of his son, maybe he was even abusing him…Danny got involved to try and help and things got out of control…" Stella kept her voice calm but she wanted, strongly, to ball Mac out.

" Yeah, maybe" Mac murmured. " Keep working this scene. I'll go check the rest of the apartment." He turned away from his co workers, walking deeper into the apartment.

"What the hell!" Aiden snapped.

Stella stared after Mac. "Just ignore him, its stress."

Sheldon looked up at them, acting as if Mac's behaviour had gone unnoticed.

"This guy definitely fought somebody before he died. His knuckles are torn up and he's had the crap beat out of his face…has Danny ever boxed?" Sheldon asked.

"No, but he got into fights a lot as a kid, he…he would be capable of inflicting that kind of damage," Flack grudgingly admitted.

"This bullet wound is…it's difficult to define…it could have been inflicted by another person but it could have been self inflicted too, by accident or design, the angle isn't too extreme." he sighed. "The gun was close to his head when it was fired. It's entirely possible this was an accident…but it's just as possible that a second person held the gun," he said.

"Danny wouldn't execute somebody," Aiden stated.

"We know Danny gets…too involved in domestic abuse cases sometimes…maybe…maybe he did get carried away," Stella muttered.

"No," Flack flatly stated.

"Not possible, Danny knows what too far is," Aiden added.

"Does he?" Stella looked Aiden in the eye.

Aiden went to answer yes again but her own doubts about Danny surfaced and she wondered; did Danny know when to stop?


	5. Chapter 5

Don Flack, his mind reeling from the things Mac had said, stared down at the body before him. The guy, Jack, had obviously taken a beating. Even though he had most likely died soon after being beaten, the bruising had already started to rise, his face puffy, bloodstained where a few particularly vicious hits had broken the skin.

It recalled to Flack's mind a situation that had taken place after a case involving a violent husband and his battered wife. Danny had, as was his way, gotten too emotionally involved, finding it difficult to restrain himself when it came to arresting the husband who had laughingly called his wife a bitch and told her to have his supper ready when he came home even as he was frogmarched out of his apartment by two armed officers. That night, Danny and Flack had gone to the gym together to burn off the stresses of the day and Flack had watched, silently horrified, as Danny pummelled a punching bag until he split the knuckles of his right hand open. Danny had claimed to just be taking out his frustration in a way that wouldn't harm the case, which was true, but Flack had never quite forgotten the look on his friends face as the young CSI had thrown punch after punch at the bag - a look of utter hatred and rage. They hadn't been wasted hits either. Danny clearly knew how to inflict damage, even on a punching bag.

Flack turned his back on the corpse and cast an experienced eye over the apartment. He sighed and marched wordlessly out of the apartment and into Danny's place, which had officially been included in the entire crime scene. It did, Flack had to grudgingly admit, reek of beer. And it was not as neat as Danny usually kept it, looking as if he had banged around for a few hours, probably while getting more and more drunk...

'_No,'_ Flack thought to himself, _'don't go there, Mac's given up, don't let Danny down too.'_ He surveyed the scene. Aiden had followed him from the other apartment.

"It's so weird." She shook her head slowly in confusion. " We shouldn't…we shouldn't be in here, not like this…Danny's isn't a criminal he's not a victim," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

"We're here _for_ Danny," Flack tried to reassure her. "To help him"

"We shouldn't have to!" Aiden snapped.

Flack took a deep, mournful breath. " I know, Aid, I do," he stated. " It sucks, it's fucked all the way up…but that doesn't change that it happened…we need to get our heads on straight, to think about what went on here, what went wrong…Danny has a temper, that's a fact right there. Another fact, that man in there is dead and Danny is nowhere to be seen. Fact three, Danny doesn't have his cell, his badge, or his gun. No badge means he didn't go in there as a cop, at least not flashin' gold." Flack motioned with his hands as he spoke, making slicing movements in the air as if physically separating all his thoughts out. " But he would have announced himself, stated that he was a cop…Danny ain't stupid, that's for damn sure," he nodded to himself. " I checked the records, the dead guy has had complaints against him before for bein' drunk and disorderly but no bodies ever reported him for abusing his kid…which is bad for Danny…but then again lookin' at that apartment, its obvious he _was_ neglecting his parental duties." Flack took another breath, feeling the wheels in his head begin to spin as he tried to map out his thoughts. " So we got a drunken dad, a possibly drunken Danny, and a kid stuck in the middle of this. Things get worked up, maybe the guy was makin' noise and Danny, not in his right mind, goes over there, they get into it…Danny…Danny goes too far…we could claim self defence..." he looked over at Aiden who shook her head.

"Nu uh, Danny's all but won awards for marksmanship, he's lethal with a gun, he's a cop for gods sake…it's like if a soldier kills a guy out side of combat, even in self defence, the soldier could get life, because he knows he's lethal when he goes into the fight." She shook her head. "Danny knows how good he is with a gun…and the guy was shot through the damn forehead Flack!" She seemed ready to throw her kit down on the ground until Flack walked over and took the case from her, raising an eyebrow.

She gave him a ghost of a smile and took a very deep breath, in and out, as Flack set her kit down near the door in an area they had already cleared. "I'm already thinkin' like Mac." She shook her head. "I know he didn't do this, in my gut I know but god damn it, it's lookin' bad-what if he's hurt? What if he needs our help and he's somewhere out there right now and we're just screwing around in here while he sits waiting for us to come get him!" she snapped, her voice - once again - thick with emotion.

"If he is out there, he'll figure out how to get help from us," Flack said, soothing him self as much as her.

"What if he can't? Or thinks he can't? We don't know too much about him but we know that he's been on the wrong end of police investigations." She looked over her own shoulder and stepped closer to Flack, lowering her voice conspiratorially. " If he _did_ do something that he could get into trouble for is he likely to stand his ground and take the punishment for it or would he run?" She met Flacks eyes and her gaze was intense enough that Flack didn't even bother trying to lie to reassure her.

CSI

Danny was trying to convince himself that by relaxing his body he wouldn't feel as cold, but it wasn't working - at all.

He was still cold and would stay that way, no matter what he told himself. He was actually colder than he would normally have been because of the wound in his shoulder. Beside him, Vincent hunched up as much as he could, making himself as small as he was able. Danny wanted to pick him up and carry him, but even as small as he was, Vincent would be too much weight with the injury.

They had found their way to a street that was either an alley way or a very small road, it was hard to tell with the snow covering everything. There was what looked to be an abandoned car half covered with snow, several dumpsters, and a number of doorways that looked like the front entrances to buildings. "The snow is filling our foot steps," Vincent spoke suddenly.

"What's that?" Danny said, trying to figure out why Vincent's voice sounded as if it came from several feet away.

"The snow," Vincent said patiently, "It's fillin' up our foot prints behind us." He turned and pointed back the way they had walked.

"Oh…yeah," Danny stated feeling oddly non-plussed. " So we should find like…um…some help right?" He frowned down at the boy.

"Yeah," Vincent said slowly. " Maybe we should try some doors?" he suggested.

Danny nodded slowly. "Yeah, that would be good."

Vincent headed over to the first door and Danny tried to follow him but his feet seemed to be on strike and he stumbled.

He fell over into the snow, pain shooting through his shoulder as he tried to catch himself.

"Danny!" Vincent cried out, running over and kneeling at Danny's side.

"I'm alright, I'm fine," Danny lied, trying to push Vincent away.

"No, you're bleeding again! We should go back, maybe the police are there, they can help us!" Vincent's teeth where chattering as he spoke.

"No!" Danny snapped. "No, the cops wont help us, they never help any body!" he said, his voice ragged.

Vincent hesitated and drew his hand back from Danny's shoulder. "But…you're a cop," he said, frowning. " Aren't you going to help us?"

Danny looked up at Vincent and frowned again, trying to see through the fog that had suddenly clouded his vision. He tried to speak but he found it too difficult to form words, and instead reached for Vincent as he slumped toward the snow on the ground.

CSI

Danny was curled up in the crook of his dad's arm, his head resting on his fathers shoulder, his dad's jacket pulled up so it covered Danny's head. It had been raining torrentially since the middle of the day and Danny and Leo had gotten caught on their way home from evening mass.

Danny was half asleep; the warmth of the church combined with the lulling rhythm of the hymns during the mass having soothed him into a gentle doze. His dad had picked him up wordlessly, carrying him out of the church as soon as the mass was over. Danny was ten but he was small for his age, small enough to carry.

"Hey kid, you wanna go straight home or you want something to eat" Leo asked Danny, shaking him slightly in his arm.

"Home please," Danny murmured.

"Alright," Leo stepped closer to the street, trying to spot a cab. They where not too far from home but Danny had been coughing a lot lately and Leo had been making an effort to keep him out of bad weather.

"Taxi!" Leo yelled, holding his hand out as a yellow cab crawled by.

This wasn't the best neighbourhood and the driver knew it. He sped up as Leo stepped toward the curb, driving the car through a puddle, which splashed dirty water over Leo's jeans. "Fuck!" Leo spat angrily, shocking Danny awake.

"You want me to walk?" Danny asked.

"No Danny, don't worry about it," Leo said distractedly.

Another cab crawled by in the rain, this one basically a domestic car with a painted-on sign.

Leo hesitated but the cab stopped and the passenger side window, which was closest to Leo, rolled down.

"Where to buddy?" the cabbie asked, leaning over the seat.

" Um, just up the way a little," Leo said, giving the driver the address. "I know it's not that far but it's raining and my kid's ill."

"Sure, sure, get in," the driver grinned, flashing crooked black teeth at them.

Leo looked at Danny and raised an eyebrow. Danny just shrugged.

Leo matched the shrug, grinning warmly at Danny, and opened the back door, sliding into the seat a little awkwardly with Danny in his arms.

Danny crawled over to the other side of the seat as Leo closed the door and the driver set off. It was warm in the cab, enough so that Danny dozed off again, leaning, on Leo's arm. Leo too was soothed by the heat and his eyes began to droop closed. The pair where jerked awake when the car went over a bump in the road and Leo peered out of the window.

"What the hell!" He frowned. "Where are we!" he snapped at the driver.

Danny jerked awake again, pushing his glasses up his nose and blinking up at his father.

"Shut up," the driver growled.

"Fuck you, where are we!" Leo banged the back of the drivers' seat.

The driver stamped on the brakes and twisted in his seat, punching Leo hard in the face.

Leo snapped back from the blow, clutching at his nose. The driver climbed out of the car and ran around to Leo's door, pulling it open and dragging Leo out. " Gimme your wallet!" the man yelled, throwing Leo roughly to the ground.

Leo lay dazed and groaning on the asphalt as the driver glanced around nervously.

Danny jumped out at the driver, his small hands curled into fists. He punched the driver hard enough to make the man's nose bleed but the guy caught him before Danny could do any more damage. He threw Danny roughly to the floor, kicking him the way one would kick a dog.

Danny howled in pain as Leo lunged for the driver, tackling him around the waist and knocking him back into a puddle.

"Dad!" Danny cried, curling around the pain in his side.

The driver hit Leo with something and Leo went down again. "Just give it up!" The driver snapped.

He kicked Leo twice and Danny pushed himself painfully to his knees, yelling for help at the top of his lungs.

The driver turned on him, dragging Danny to his feet only to slap him back down again. He kicked Danny in the ribs and legs, stamping on Danny's ankle when Danny tried to kick back. The driver held Danny by the scruff of his neck and punched Danny repeatedly in the face, ignoring Danny's screams of pain.

Leo tackled the guy again but he was dazed and the assault was feeble. The driver turned and began beating on Leo with the same ferocity he had unleashed on Danny.

When Leo finally lay still, the driver of the gypsy cab rooted through his pockets, finding his wallet and taking the few bills it held. He stormed back to his car, kicking Danny once more as he passed.

The driver left them lying in the street, Danny sobbing breathlessly as each breath caused more pain to flare through his body.

"Danny?" Leo's voice came "Danny, are you ok? Talk to me!"

Leo's voice changed, becoming higher, younger, Vincent's voice. "Danny!" The boy was clearly frantic and panicked and Danny realised he was lying in the snow.

"I'm okay," he breathlessly lied again.

"What happened!" Vincent said.

Danny opened his eyes and focused on Vincent's tear stained face.

"I just tripped, I'm fine," he replied more harshly than he meant to.

Vincent drew back, frowning at Danny. "I was just trying to help," he said meekly.

"Yeah, well, I'm sick of you askin' questions all the time!" Danny snapped " I'm in charge here, so quit questioning me," he said wearily.

"I'm just gonna assume that you're in a lot of pain and that you're not your self," Vincent said diplomatically.

Danny glared at him and chewed the inside of his own lip angrily. He slowly, painfully, pushed him self to his feet, shivering against the cold. "I'm sorry," he said gruffly. " I don't…I don't know what's wrong," he muttered to himself.

"I really wanna go back," Vincent stated, "I think my dad will have passed out by now, we can call the cops!" he told Danny.

"No!" Danny snapped. " Cops can't help people like us, don't you get it? They figure we'll just kill each other off and all they'll have to do is come in and clean up the bodies." Danny bent awkwardly to look into Vincent's eyes. "They'd rather it be that way," he said.

"But…you said you would help me." Vincent, tears running down his cheeks whimpered. "And you're a cop"

"Look, I'm somebody you can trust, I'm somebody who'll get your back. That's all that matters," Danny assured him.

"You're sweating," Vincent said, changing the subject so rapidly that Danny had to take a second to figure out where he was in the conversation.

"What?" he frowned.

"You're sweating like it's hot…but it isn't hot, it's still snowing." Vincent frowned, pressing a hand to Danny's forehead. "You feel like you have a fever Danny. We have to find a doctor!" he exclaimed. "This isn't right, you're sick!"

Danny pulled away from Vincent's hand. "I'm fine," he said softly. " We oughta keep movin', we'll find help quicker if we do"

He walked unsteadily away from Vincent, barely even glancing back at the boy.

Vincent stood alone in the snow, seriously debating whether he should carry on with Danny. He looked back the way they had come and realised he would never find his way back on his own, so ran after Danny, hanging back just a little instead of taking Danny's hand like he had done previously.

Danny walked over to the door they had attempted opening before Danny had collapsed. He pushed it and it opened with relative ease, so he walked in, apparently unconcerned about sneaking in.

"Any idea where this is?" he asked Vincent as they stepped into the dark building.

"Nope," Vincent replied.

"Shit," Danny said without much conviction.

"Should we yell for help?" Vincent asked.

"No!" Danny snapped "You tryin' to get us killed by some gun happy rentacop?" He laughed oddly, shaking his head as if it was the funniest joke he had ever told and he couldn't get over his own comedic talent.

Vincent stared at him, his eyes focusing on the bullet wound. It was bleeding again, visibly, and Vincent was guessing it was infected. He put Danny's odd behaviour down to fever but it worried him, as Danny was growing noticeably paler with every step they took.

"If we're careful about what we say he might not shoot us," Vincent suggested.

"Nu uh, rentacops are worse than real cops, they got wannabe hero complexes, they take it all too seriously. Jeez kid, you got a lot to learn, I'm amazed you've lasted at all in this city."

Vincent frowned again and wondered if this behaviour was normal or brought on by the illness. He hadn't known Danny long enough to know the difference. "You're bein' kinda mean," he said sadly.

Danny gave him a look that Vincent couldn't identify. "I'm not bein' mean I'm teaching you." he smirked.

"Teachin' me what?" Vincent frowned.

Danny ignored him and carried on walking into the building. It seemed to be the back room of some sort of store, and Vincent immediately began searching for a first aid kit.

"If there's a phone we should call the cops," Vincent said cautiously as Danny stood shivering near the doorway.

"No," Danny said slowly " No, the cops won't help us, its just you and me now'" he stated quietly.

"What?" Vincent asked.

"The cops don't help people like us, they just tell us we're being dramatic. We have to stick together and only look out for one another." Danny looked up at Vincent, his eyes glinting oddly.

"I don't-" Vincent started to say but Danny stepped forward, his hand held out to silence him.

"Listen!" Danny hissed, "Do you hear that?" his eyes where wide in his pale, sweat covered face.

"No'" Vincent replied in earnest.

"They followed us!" Danny said, cursing "We can't get caught, I'm not goin' back home in a cop car, do you know what he'll do to me?" he asked.

Vincent found himself lost for words as Danny grabbed his arm and pulled him further into the store, shoving the door closed behind them.

He dragged Vincent into a small storeroom, finding the deepest darkest corner and crouching down, pulling Vincent to sit beside him. "We'll stay here until they've passed by, then we can run for it, make our way somewhere safe." Danny sat with his back to the wall, pulling his knees up in front of him.

"Who?" Vincent asked simply.

"Sh!" Danny said harshly, making Vincent move so that if the door opened, Danny's body would shield Vincent. " We can just stay here for a little while, until its safe," Danny muttered, his voice growing faint.

Vincent huddled nervously beside Danny until he realised Danny had passed out. He went to move but Danny stirred, muttering something. Vincent moved again, pressing his hand to Danny's fore head. Danny's skin was burning hot but Danny was shivering, growing worse even as Vincent watched.

Vincent looked around the room and spotted some kind of large sheet or dust cover. He pulled it over and opened it out, using it to cover both Danny and himself. Vincent made Sure Danny was as covered as he could be, then sat beside him, moving closer to try and keep Danny as warm as possible. He didn't know if it would help or make things worse, but he figured any rest Danny got was a good thing. Danny whimpered, some dream he was having disturbing him in his unconscious state. "Shh, it's okay," Vincent whispered, finding Danny's hand under the sheet.

He held Danny's hand, squeezing it comfortingly "We'll be okay," he promised. " We will"

NYNYNYNY

"Stella c'mere!" Mac yelled suddenly, making Stella jump.

She followed the sound of his voice through Jack's apartment, noticing the blood trail leading into the bathroom.

"Mac?" she asked, stepping into the bathroom where she was sure Mac's voice had come from.

"Out here!" Mac yelled.

Stella walked over the open window, leaning toward it slowly, realising that some one injured had gone out the window. "Some one came out here." Mac's head appeared outside the window, frightening the crap out of Stella so much that she yelled out loud.

"Damn it Mac!" she snapped.

"Somebody came out here hurt Stella, and look, that door over there? I think they went through there to get out of the alley. The other end is walled in." He sounded almost excited "Look at this blood trail…somebody came out here bloody enough to leave this trail the whole way. It's something to follow, a lead to find Danny and the kid," he told her.

"Plus…this blood trail starts at that pool in the den. That means that that blood isn't Jack's. Maybe it's Danny's." She gave Mac a **worried **look.

Mac grimaced "Maybe," he grunted. " Or maybe it's the kid's."

"Mac, what _the hell_ is your problem?" Stella sneered.

"What do you mean?" Mac shot back.

" I admit this scene doesn't look great for Danny but there is no excuse for your attitude right now. Even if you're his superior, you're his friend too and you should at least be giving him the benefit of the doubt, because as much as this might look like Danny screwed up, it also looks a lot like he's in trouble, and needs us, depending on how you choose to look at it. For what ever reason, you're condemning him and that Mac, is a shitty thing to do," Stella said haughtily. "So as your friend I'm telling you, get your attitude sorted the hell out, now, because there is no way you can remain objective on this case based on the way you acted back in there. And that's another thing. Blowing up like you did in front of the rest of the team was just bad form." She shook her head at him.

Mac stared at her, open mouthed anger colouring his face as he took in what she had said. He looked away from her, visibly restraining him self, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Stella raised an eyebrow. " I should think you are," she **bluntly **told him.

"I'm just… every time Danny gets into trouble…I.A. starts sniffing around and it takes a lot more effort than I care to admit to get them to back off. This whole thing right now? Even if he is totally innocent in what's happened, it's another black mark against his name and he can't afford many more. The reason I lost it like I did is that…I'm worried that this might be the one time where he _is_ in the wrong, when he has done something we can't save him from." He sighed.

He looked up at her and she saw the genuine concern in his eyes. She shook her head slowly. " Well that's still no excuse for what you said Mac, and I can see you don't totally think he's innocent. Admit it Mac, part of you thinks he screwed up." She glared at him.

Mac sighed again. "As a CSI I have to remain objective, I have to follow what the evidence tells me. Right now the evidence points to Danny being the guilty party. Until I see something to contest that, I can only believe what I see," he said diplomatically.

Stella gritted her teeth but she nodded. " Thank you for being honest at least."

Mac nodded. "Back to the matter at hand, I think we should think about calling in some kind of search party to go through that door and see where it leads, Danny…what ever happened, would probably have wanted to get away, either from Jack, or what he may have done. That door is the only way out of the alleyway and Danny's a survivor. I'd bet cold hard cash that he went through there," Mac told her.

"I'll take a sample of the blood back to the lab, make sure we know exactly who's injured. If it's Danny's, everything changes." She looked at Mac, who nodded.

Stella swabbed the blood in the bathroom, photographing each drop as she went, while Mac, carefully as possible, made his way down to the alley. He called Flack and before long the detective was standing on the fire escape platform, watching Mac lower himself carefully onto the snow, avoiding the half filled depression there.

"Somebody fell here," he yelled back up.

He photographed the depression, then knelt, and began carefully scraping the snow aside, moving it until he saw blood.

"I got blood," he called. " Our injured party definitely fell here."

"Any other sign that it was Danny?" Flack called down.

Mac looked around himself, sliding the snow around gently. Something glinted in the light of his flashlight and Mac leaned over, pinching what he saw was a chain between two fingers and pulling it out of the snow. He held it up.

"What is that?" Flack called, leaning over the railing of the fire escape.

Mac swore as he held his torch so that he could see what was dangling from the long chain. It was a St Christopher pendant, a small silver crucifix and a silver engagement ring. It was Danny's chain, the one that he always wore. The chain and the pendants were covered in blood.

"Mac, what is it?" Flack yelled.

Mac lowered his torch and swore again, looking at the chain, realising what it meant if Danny had dropped it. He looked up at Flack. "It's Danny."


	6. Chapter 6

Hi guys, sorry its been so long! Here's the next bit, poor danny! Same disclaimers for language and content. I dont own any of the csi crew blah blah copywritecakes.

R+R and i'll try not to take so long with the next one!

* * *

Aiden's full lower lip quivered almost imperceptibly as she stared at the chain and pendant which Mac had bagged and sent back up to the apartment while he continued to scour the alley way, making his way slowly but purposefully toward the door. He was gathering up anything that could have been evidence, making sure he photographed and documented everything, trying to assure that he could build the strongest possible case either for, or against, Danny Messer.

"Oh," Aiden said quietly, holding the bag high so that the light glinted off the silver chain. "Damn it Danny," she breathed.

Stella frowned, stepping closer to the younger CSI. " Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah," Aiden said resignedly, placing the bag carefully in her kit.

"We'll find him," Stella told her, her voice holding a promise.

"This is so screwed up Stella," Aiden snapped, her Brooklyn accent thickening with emotion. " This is Danny's chain! Danny's apartment, Danny's life that's all messed up… I just cant get my head around it Stella… you spend your days with some one, then just like that, everything changes." She shook her head, unaware that she was closely mimicking something Danny had once said after a particularly tough case.

She took a deep breath and picked up her case. "I'll take what we have back to the lab, then I'm gonna come back and get on that search team," she stated.

"Aiden you might be better off staying at the lab. Once we've finished with the scene there's not a lot more we can do here." Stella gave Aiden a sympathetic look. "You know I feel as scared and worried as you do, but you and I will be better utilised helping analyse the evidence, finding out what happened here, maybe where Danny is," Stella said.

"Stella you know as well as I do none of this was planned… whose ever fault it was, it was all random… nothing we analyze is gonna help us find him," Aiden shot back, not harshly, but not exactly friendly either.

Stella let it slide. " Go to the lab, get the techs working on what we have. Then…see what Mac says about coming back…if he torpedoes it, stay away, you don't want him ordering you off, but if he's okay with it…be careful. And bring our boy back." She gave Aiden an almost conspiratorial wink and the younger CSI nodded and walked away, taking her kit with her.

Stella marched back through Jack Theroux's apartment, glancing around as she went, her trained eyes taking in everything. The apartment was already imprinted in her mind. As she walked now, she automatically filled in the spaces where things had been removed, including Jack's body. She stopped, standing in the centre of the den, her feet either side of the blood pool. Taking a deep breath and pulling on a new pair of gloves, Stella crouched over the pool. She closed her eyes, trying to visualise how things might have gone;

_Jack, possibly drunk, has been raising a fuss, maybe beating on his son…_ Stella opened her eyes and pictured the scene, her imagination conjuring ghost like images of the players, Jack appearing whole, the child, of whom there were still no pictures, simply a smaller, shadowy figure…_yelling about whatever, the kid being up so late, the lack of fresh alcohol in the house…_ Stella looked over at the open door, moving so she could see Danny's apartment across the hall…_Danny is eating his dinner, drinking, maybe unwinding after the difficult sexual assault case. He hears the noise and…_ Stella reluctantly let her mind follow the path Mac had seemed to be following…_in his own inebriated state comes over and lets himself in, the neighbours reported hearing him thumping on the door and yelling, but were not sure if he told Jack he was a cop or not. Danny comes in and sees Jack, his anger aided by alcohol, overriding common sense and cop training. Danny goes for Jack, they fight, Danny gets the upper hand, gets the gun and executes Jack mob style, then takes the kid and the gun and flees the scene, again, the alcohol causing him to react differently than he normally would…_ Stella shook her head. They had already established that the bleeder from the den was the bleeder who had escaped, meaning that at some point, Danny or the kid had gotten wounded. Stella reset her internal playback and tried a different version…_Danny is still drunk but not overreacting, simply trying to defend the boy, and himself from Jack, who had almost a foot and half of height and at least a hundred pounds in weight on Danny. The fight ensues and Danny's street instincts kick in, the gun appears, it goes off…the boy gets hit? _Stella flinched as her imagined child figure took a bullet, slumping to the ground. The neighbours who had called it in had reported gunfire but there was some trouble establishing whether it was one or two, the stories where not totally collaborative. Stella looked down at the puddle of blood, her imagined boy now laying over it…_with the boy now hit, maybe mortally wounded, Danny really loses it and executes Jack, then takes the kid and leaves…_ 'But why?' Stella mused, 'Why leave the scene, why not stay for help…Danny could have been drunk, that was true, but even drunk he wouldn't have been so stupid, surely? Stella frowned again and followed the third possibility…_Danny is drunk, in the apartment, they're fighting, the gun appears, there's a struggle…Danny gets hit…_Stella blew a deep breath out as she visualised Danny laying over the blood stain. It was not easy to do, but she gritted her teeth, determined to tough it out…_Danny some how gets the gun back and kills Jack, then takes the kid and leaves…_But again, why did he leave? Stella shook her head again. She looked at her watch and realised she had been in the room for almost forty minutes.

"Hey," Flack called out. " We might have kind of a problem." He was standing in the door way, his face grim.

" What is it?" Stella asked.

" We should get to Mac first." Flack looked at her. " It's not looking good"

**NYNYNY**

Vincent felt his stomach drop through the floor as the box he was standing on wobbled suddenly and he was almost thrown to the floor. He froze, regaining his balance and pulled the small medicine cabinet door open. " Jackpot," he breathed at the sight if a dusty, but not too old, first aid kit.

He pulled the kit down and jumped off the box, carrying the kit over to the small office he had found and crawling under the desk. Not wanting to be spotted, Vincent had moved the desk lamp into the alcove under the main panel of the desk, creating a little cave for himself. He routed through the kit, setting aside bandages, antiseptics, and gauze. He held up a spool and a small box of medical needles and squinted to read the instructions. "Suture kit," he grinned.

He gathered everything together in the kit box, taking the lamp too and headed back to the storeroom, to Danny, humming to himself, feeling a spark of hope that things might be looking up.

**NYNYNY**

"We got a couple a few floors down who say they rode the elevator up with Danny and our vic…they say…they say Danny got into it with Theroux, threatened him, was even aggressive with the couple…they got off before our boy and Theroux so they don't know what might have happened. But there was definitely tension between 'em." Flack looked from Mac to Stella as he spoke, registering the set of their faces. " They say Theroux bumped Danny at one point and something in Danny's bags broke, Danny, in their words, overreacted."

Stella cursed as Flack's words mirrored her thoughts from only moments ago. They were standing in the alley way which was becoming more easily accessible as crews worked to remove the garbage pile that blocked the entrance.

" Did Danny get violent?" Mac asked calmly.

" They say he didn't exactly throw any punches, but he was confrontational," Flack confirmed.

" Shit!" Stella spat.

Mac opened his mouth to speak again but a high chirping sound interrupted him. Stella jumped and reached for her cell phone.

"Stella?" she heard Hawkes on the other end. "I'm here with Aiden, we might have something," he told her.

Stella immediately set her phone to loudspeaker "Go ahead," she said aloud.

"Remember that bloody handprint on Jack's face?" Aiden's voice sounded. "We swabbed it and compared it with the blood from the floor in the den, they're a match for one another but we're still running for a name. It also looks like it may match the blood that was on Danny's…on Danny's chain." The team pretended not to hear the slight quaver in Aiden's voice. "Oh and we checked, the hand print isn't ideal for finger prints, too smeared."

"Meaning that blood could be Danny's," Flack said.

" Or it could be the kid's and got on Danny's chain when he carried the kid out the window," Stella grudgingly admitted, " or even Jack's except that we've established he died in the kitchen."

"Well here's something else, that blood from the bathroom? There was some if it that was full of mucus, from a bloody nose I'd bet…_that_ blood, doesn't match the blood that was on the chain, in the den, _but_ it does match Jack." Hawkes told them.

"So…so Jack was in the bathroom, near the window after he was beaten," Mac surmised

" And after some one else got hurt," Flack added.

" So… wait… there's no evidence to suggest Danny or anybody went back into the apartment, so who shot Jack?" Stella asked aloud.

"Hey, we're not done, we ran the blood samples…Jack was drunk, way, way over the limit," Aiden called. " And the other donor, based on the large sample we took from the den floor…had maybe... maybe one beer in him." Aiden's voice was smug and Stella could almost see the grin the young CSI would be sporting. " Meaning the other donor is Danny, and he wasn't drunk," she told them.

Mac sniffed, blinking up at the falling snow. "And," he added reluctantly, "meaning if he did shoot Jack, he was sober when he did it, so he couldn't even plea for manslaughter," he reminded them

"That's the other thing." Aiden's voice was harsh, clearly she was pissed at Mac's comment, and even Stella shot him a look.

"I'm just being realistic," Mac shot back, fairly.

"As I was saying, Jack has GSR on both sleeves of his shirt, meaning he fired the gun twice," Hawkes spoke again.

" Or held it with two hands and fired once," Flack reluctantly voiced his own doubts.

"The angle doesn't match that, if he clasped the gun in two hands and fired, there would be GSR from one shot spread more or less evenly over his chest and arms. He has enough GSR on either side to tell us he shot twice, the gun in one hand each time," Aiden told them.

"SIR!" a voice called.

Flack turned to see a young uniformed officer running toward him. "Harrison, what is it?" he asked.

The portly young cop came to a stop beside the CSI's. " Sir, I'm getting some kind of screwed up information or something, I got a lady in… uh… this apartment here," he pointed to a window two stories down and six across from Jack's, " saying she heard one gun, then a kid screaming, then a guy yelling at some one to come back…she says it sounded like the father yelling after people, yelling for his kid, something in the tone she says, gives it away… Then she heard a second gunshot… which to me says that Messer and the kid left before the second shot was fired… but I've been hearing that this guy was dead before Messer left the apartment, so I figure, either she got it wrong, or you did. And while I'm not inclined to doubt you science guys, I listened out of her window and I don't know if it's the alley or the snow but the acoustics are good enough that I kind of… I kind of think she knows what she's sayin'." The kid was blinking rapidly, the effort of telling his bosses he doubted their wisdom clearly taking its toll on him.

"You got her statement written down?" Flack asked the kid.

The kid gave Flack a 'do I look stupid?' glare. " Course."

Flack looked pointedly at Mac, and Stella still holding her phone.

"Don't give me that look," Mac said, " we still have a dead body, a missing murder weapon and two missing people, at least one of whom is severely wounded. This evidence is good but it doesn't clear Danny completely, Jack was shot in the head and the gun is gone, if it was suicide, where's the weapon?" Mac reminded them.

"I'm coming back," Aiden snapped before she disconnected the phone.

Stella put her phone back on her belt as Flack thanked the kid and told him to go and try to confirm what the woman had told him. "So, now what?" Flack asked them.

Mac thought on it. " Okay…alright, the EMS and FDNY are almost through the garbage wall, when they get in here we're gonna set up for a search, starting through there," Mac pointed to the doorway. " So far I've found blood trails leading in that direction, so its pretty obvious where we need to start. When Aiden gets here I'm gonna have her tear up that house and find the gun, if its there," Mac told them. "Flack, put out an APB for Danny and this boy…well for Danny at least, we still don't know what this kid looks like… say he's possibly armed and to be approached with caution if spotted. Say he's a trained cop, and he may be injured or in shock," Mac told the blue eyed detective. "I know that sounds negative and bad for Danny but those are just the facts. Make sure they know he's one of ours," Mac stated.

Flack stared at him for a beat, then turned away, pulling a walkie talkie from his belt and officially relaying the orders.

" Nicely worded; makes sure people will be careful without it looking too bad for Danny," Stella admitted.

"I can't pretend this isn't still bad for Danny, Stella. We've got witnesses now saying he confronted the guy in the elevator," Mac reminded her. "Even if it turns out this was some terrible accident, those statements mean Danny could still be hit with manslaughter for instigating the fight that led to Theroux's death."

"Well, Mac, you know, sometimes… sometimes with all the paper work in a case, sometimes certain things, statements, get lost." Stella shrugged.

Mac stared at the ground "Yeah," he mumbled. "Sometimes"

He tilted his head slightly "But not this time" he said to her quietly, firmly, but not angrily "Danny isn't in the clear just yet, we don't want to risk doing anything to compromise the case, even if we think it'll help him…if it comes up later…" he trailed off as she nodded.

"We just have to hope then that he's alright" Stella shrugged.

As she spoke her phone rang again. She answered it and listened for a few minutes then hung up, looking pale again "Sheldon ran the blood in the snow, it matches the handprint and the blood in the den…and the ID came back…it's Danny" she said , her voice a little ragged.

Mac sighed, sounding exhausted. "Alright, get the word out, we now officially know we have a wounded officer" he picked up his flash light began to walk towards the door way "I'm gonna start looking…make sure the emergency crews get some high power lights and torches too" he told her.

Stella nodded and walked in the direction Flack had gone, fighting back the tears that where threatening to break out.

She actually had to pause and take a deep breath as Flack walked over to her.

"Whatsamatter?" he asked her.

Stella regained her composure quickly and told Flack that it was official, the blood was Danny's. She relayed Mac's orders.

Flack nodded and asked again if she was okay. "Yeah…its just all of a sudden its real" she shook her head, reigning herself in "I'll be fine, its just a shock seeing all that blood and relating it to one of our own" she explained.

Flack nodded "I know Stel but…he's Danny" he gave her a tight grin and a shrug as if it explained everything.

Stella looked at him "he's not super man"

**NYNYNY**

Danny Messer was twelve but he was small for his age, kind of scrawny. He looked younger and while it could be a nuisance, sometimes it could be a blessing "Please mister!" he opened his blue eyes wide, pouting his bottom lip just a bit, I don't have the ten cents…its only ten cents, please can I have the soda?" he curled his fingers over the top of the raised counter, knowing that all the shop keeper would be able to see would be his mop of blonde hair, which was darkening slightly as he got older, his bright blue eyes behind the glasses he wore and his small hands with their bitten down finger nails.

The man sighed and slid the can over to Danny, fixing him with a stern glare "Just this once kid, alright?" he stated, his accent strong, harsh.

Danny's accent was just as pronounced as he thanked the guy and grabbed the can, running out of the shop.

He held out the can triumphantly as he reached the group of boys who stood on the corner. "You ready?" he asked one kid, a tall, dark, obviously Sicilian boy who flashed Danny an impressed grin.

The kid took the can and dug into his pocket, holding up two packets of pop rock candy. "I don't think you're up for this Messer" he shook his head, holding the pop rocks just out of Danny's reach"

"Screw you Sonny I can take anything you can dish out" Danny jumped and swiped the bags, giving Sonny a triumphant smile.

Sonny took one bag back and tore it open as Danny did the same.

The counted to three then tipped the contents of the paper bags into their mouths, then opened the soda and each taking a huge swig.

They held the mixtures in their mouths, holding one anothers gaze. They nodded, then swallowed. "You feel anything yet?" Sonny asked, his face still smug despite the faintest quaver in his voice.

"Nope. You? Afraid ya gonna explode Sonny?" Danny asked.

"You wish Messer" Sonny scoffed.

The surrounding kids watched both boys intently. Danny made a pained face "Hey…" he muttered, rubbing at his own stomach "something…something's wrong" he doubled over, clutching in pain at his own stomach.

Sonny, arrogant mask giving way to fear watched him closely "Messer? You alright? You're kidding right?" he asked, his voice shaking again.

"No…I don't feel so good" Danny said through gritted teeth.

He dropped to his knees, still clutching at his stomach, groaning loudly.

The boys around them looked at one another fearfully as Sonny began to sweat, reaching for Danny's shoulder. Danny began to gasp, falling down to the ground. "Danny!" Sonny yelled "Danny, oh man, Danny come on!" Sonny was on the verge of tears.

He knelt beside Danny, leaning close to Danny as Danny's breath seemed to slow. He was staring at nothing as he stopped breathing. Sonny cursed and grabbed Danny's face between two hands, leaning close, trying to hear for breath. Danny belched, long and loud directly in Sonny's face, his face splitting in a delighted grin. He burst out laughing, a high pitched giggle that spread through the group as a red faced Sonny stood, digging Danny with the tip of his sneaker.

"That's not funny Messer" Sonny snapped.

"Yes it was!" Danny shot back, laughing as he stood "You should have seen your face, I swear, you where gonna cry!" he giggled.

"He got you Sassone" another kid put in.

"Shut up, no he didn't! Sonny shot, but he was beginning to smile.

"See, I told you it was crap, you don't explode you just burp like a son of a bitch!" Danny gave Sonny a friendly shove.

"So we gonna play ball or what?" a fourth boy hefted his bat.

"Alright" Danny grinned again and the group started walking.

"DANNY" a voice bellowed out and the group as one stopped and looked across the street as Leo Messer staggered out of a bar "Come'ere kid!" he snapped.

"Aw man" Danny pulled a base ball from his pocket, seemingly more upset about not being able to play than about his fathers state or mood.

He tossed the ball to Sonny "I'll catch up later" he told them, jogging across the street.

"Where you been?" Leo loomed over Danny.

"Just with the guys" Danny told him truthfully, falling into step with his father, having to skip just a little to match his fathers longer strides.

"You clean the kitchen in the apartment?" Leo slurred.

"Yeah, and I did the laundry and there's some steaks defrosting in the sink" Danny told his father brightly.

"You do ya home work?" Leo belched and spat a gobbet of phlegm.

"Yessir" Danny nodded.

"Good kid, good kid" Leo sniffed. "Did you talk to the building super about the pipes?" he asked.

Danny frowned at him "What about the pipes?" he looked up at his father "I didn't know anything was wrong" he stated.

"You lazy little shit!" Leo, apparently not having heard his sons last remark grabbed Danny's upper arm and dragged the boy forward, forcing Danny to go up on tip toe "I told you the pipes where'nt runnin right and to call the super!" he snarled.

"No you didn't!" Danny yelled back.

Leo turned and began stalking toward his building, dragging Danny behind him. Danny struggled to keep up ad s his father pulled him by the arm, and asked his dad to slow down. Leo drew up short and dragged Danny forward, wrenching Danny's shoulder. Danny screamed as he heard a pop and felt something in his shoulder move in a totally un natural way.

**NYNYNY**

Danny gasped as he opened his eyes, feeling panic rise up in his chest before Vincent shushed him soothingly "Don't move I'm almost done" the boy told him.

"What?" Danny croaked, his voice painfully dry.

"I found a first aid kit, I'm sewing up the wound, you're bleeding way too badly" Vincent explained "Just hold still another second"

Danny turned his aching head slightly to see that the kid had widened the hole in Danny's shirt and had done a half decent job of sewing the wound up. Danny didn't feel any new pain, just the dull ache from the original wound, and couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not. "Good job" he croaked, taken aback by the kids talent.

"Here" Vincent passed him a bottle of water "I found a fridge too"

As Vincent finished up, Danny use his good arm and sipped the water, knowing too much would making him ill, so only taking little sips even though his dehydrated body cried out for more.

"You're still feverish and I don't know what to do to fix it" Vincent stated as he pressed a bandage over the wound and began to tape it in place.

"It'll just be my body reacting to the bullet, it'll be fine" Danny croaked "Now we ought to get moving soon, he'll be home any minute and if he sees the mess we made in here we're both gonna get it" he told Vincent.

Vincent gave him an odd look and Danny frowned "What?" he asked.

"Nothing it's just…never mind" Vincent chewed his bottom lip.

Danny struggled but with Vincent's help, he got to his feet. He had a moment of dizziness but it passed, and he leant on Vincent "Head to the front of this place, get us back to people" he told the boy.

They walked, slowly reaching the front of the store that seemed to be a small stationary out let.

"How do we get out?" Vincent looked up at Danny.

Danny regarded the door which, miraculously, didn't have metal covers over the glass, but did have some heavy duty locks on it and sniffed, much in the way his father had the day he dislocated Danny's shoulder. He looked around and located a heavy looking pricing gun and chucked it at the door. It was a bad throw with his wrong hand but it hit the glass and smashed through. No alarm sounded and most of the noise of the breaking glass was muffled by the snow. They hobbled forward and Danny punched the remaining glass out of the frame, telling Vincent to go through. Vincent did so, then helped Danny and the walked out onto the street, peering around.

"Any ideas?" Danny asked the boy.

Vincent noticed that other than his odd remark in the store room, Danny seemed more coherent and aware than he had been. He wondered if it was the rest that had helped. "I got nothing" he said, by way of answering Danny's question.

"I think we should try and find a sub way…get some where familiar maybe?" Danny suggested.

"You got any money?" Vincent looked up at him.

"No…go back in the store and see if you can find anything…it's okay, its for an emergency" Danny said to Vincent's shocked look.

Reluctantly, Vincent climbed back in through the door and headed for the counter and the till first.

Luckily for them both, the till was an old one and opened with out needing a pin or code. There was only a few dollars in the tray, and some coins, so Vincent took everything and headed back out to Danny.

"Alright kid, now, if you where a subway station…where would you be?" Danny gave him a ghost of a smile.

Vincent, again feeling that little spark of hope, returned the smile and looked around "I think…."he pointed "That way" he guessed.

"Well we'll find one eventually" Danny told him, and they headed out, the swirling snow already covering their tracks.

**NYNYNY**

"You know I heard this guy already killed another cop" Officer Jason Macnulty gazed idly out of the window of the cruiser as the car moved slowly through the snow covered streets, "and everyone knows about the…Tanglewood stuff" he added, running a hand over his pock marked, acne scarred skin.

Simon Liu, who was driving the car, shrugged in agreement "I cant believe they ever let him be a cop" he snorted "guys clearly a mob plant" he shook his head.

"You know they want us to try and bring him in safe?" Macnulty scoffed "As fucking if!" he frowned.

"if he's got a hostage, and a gun, I don't see how see how we can…I mean we know he can shoot…I say, we see him…we take him out before he gets a chance to do the same to us" Liu nodded "Plus how goods it gonna look if we save the kid? And when we off this guy, it's all gonna come out about him probably being a plant any ways so we're gonna be flat out heroes!" Liu smirked.

"I'm so glad you said that man, so glad…so we're agreed…we see Danny Messer, he's a dead man"


	7. Chapter 7

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry its taken so long, but here it is, the final chapter, hope you like it, disclamiers et al apply, love you all to death my reviewers, toodles!Xxxxxxx

* * *

Danny was slumped in the uncomfortable plastic seat of the subway car, staring unseeingly ahead at the black windows, Vincent at his side, half dozing. The station had been unmanned, they had bought their tickets in the machine and simply boarded the first train that had arrived, too exhausted, too shocked to worry exactly where they went.

The rhythmic 'snick snick' sound of the wheels on the tracks had a lulling effect on the two, and they found them selves struggling to stay awake. Danny stood, rubbing his face with his good hand, pacing the empty car slowly. "Hey you hungry?" Danny asked Vincent suddenly.

"Yeah, I guess" Vincent frowned.

"Maybe once we get some where, we can find us some kinda all night fast food joint and get some hot dogs or something, yeah?"

"What time is it any way?" the boy asked sleepily.  
"I don't know, its gotta be close to dawn at least, I mean we walked for a couple hours, I slept for a good long while…and it was late when all of this even started…" he gave the boy an apologetic look.

"Where should we get off?" Vincent looked around the car.

"Yeah it looks like we got the one car with out any maps huh?" Danny grimaced, his voice stronger than before.

"Should we just get off at the next stop?" Vincent asked, then frowned "Wait, why don't we just ask the driver for help!" he slid of his seat, smiling excitedly.

Danny frowned gravely, "No way," he hissed quickly, getting an odd look his eyes that Vincent was starting to recognise as some kind of delusional state "He'll call the wrong people, things will just get worse"

Vincent stared back in dismay, realising that Danny seemed to be suffering some paranoia. He knew he could walk away from Danny, but he couldn't bring himself to. As much as a part of Vincent knew that Danny was sick, that he needed help and that he, Vincent, could easily leave Danny behind and run for the drivers booth, for help…he couldn't. Danny had saved Vincent's life, he had risked his own to do so and hadn't asked for a word of thank you in return. And even though he seemed to be having some trouble, Vincent knew that Danny was trying to get them to help, to safety. Vincent just wished he knew what Danny's idea of safety was. At the moment, even cops where unacceptable. "Well who will help us?" Vincent asked meekly.

Danny stared at him blankly, muttering under his breath "Uh…some body will kid, we just need to find the right people is all…some cops…they're not always good guys" he told Vincent "We need to find the cops who are good guys" he nodded to himself.

The car lurched to a stop and Danny and Vincent peered out of the window to the dimly lit station "Where we at?" Danny mumbled to himself.

"We could just get off here and hope for the best" Vincent suggested.

"Yeah, we could" Danny nodded "Ya wanna?" he looked down at Vincent.

"Yeah" Vincent shrugged.

"Alright" Danny nodded.

They climbed off the car, Vincent casting looks back to where they had been sitting. There was still blood from Danny's shoulder staining parts of the car, but there was less of it. Vincent smiled internally at his own handy work. He looked up at Danny who, while still pale, looked ever so slightly better. They walked out into the old looking station, glancing around. There was no one nearby "One night in the history of New York that there's no one around" Danny shook his head.

He headed for the stairs leading to the street, shuddering against the cold as the reached the snow covered pavement "Damn it its cold" Danny cursed "Come here" he pulled Vincent close to him and hoisted him in his good arm, carrying him a little unsteadily.

Vincent shifted around until he was secure in Danny's arm, cuddling closer to him for warmth. "That a little better?" Danny asked.

"Are you sure you can carry me?" Vincent squeaked.

"Couse I can kid" Danny lied "Now look around, anything familiar?"

Vincent looked around at the dark, silent streets, the windows of almost every building darkened and unseeing. "I think we're near my school" Vincent said uncertainly.

"You know how to get from here to like…the main part of the city? Maybe Time Square, I could walk to the lab blindfolded from Time Square" Danny asked.

"Uh…I think, maybe if we head that way" Vincent pointed across the street, down a road.

"Alright, well then we go thattaway" Danny nodded. He walked across the empty road and the almost knee deep snow, squinting up at the clouds.

"Danny, was your dad bad like my dad?" Vincent asked suddenly.  
"Ya know kid, I'm starting to think he was, I never thought he was but uh…yeah, I think he was bad" Danny admitted, feeling odd about it.

He had never thought of his dad as abusive, just mean, and drunk. Even years as a CSI being around cases that felt familiar to him, that struck a chord for reasons he had never been clear about. But he was starting to realise now that his father, Leo Messer, had been a violent, drunken ass hole.

"Do you hate him?" Vincent asked.

"I kind of do" Danny nodded "I mean growing up I loved him, he was my dad, I just though that as disciplinarians went, he was a tough one…but yeah…he really was fucking mean"

"I hate my dad" Vincent wrinkled his nose "He sucks"  
"That he does" Danny agreed, hobbling along slowly "he's not a good person"

"Was your dad ever a good person?" Vincent asked.

"he cared about me sure" Danny nodded slowly to himself, "But I don't know if he was mean before or after my mother died and I was real young when it happened, so I cant remember if he turned mean after she died, or if he was mean all time. He was cool sometimes though" Danny recalled "I mean he was…as a parent, doin parent stuff, making sure I was doin my home work and all that, he wasn't horrible at that side of it, which I guess is why I never thought he was a bad guy the way I figured yours was, I mean he was the only parent I had and when I talked to other kids they would say that their dads made sure they had done their homework, and that when they didn't they got hit too…I guess they meant like a little spank on the butt or something" he tried experimentally moving his fingers on his bad arm and found it much easier than he would have thought.

"But whatever, dads are a touchy subject," Danny shook his head "Lets talk about something else"

"What else?" Vincent asked.

"Any damn thing"

**NYNYNY**

"I got a door!" Aiden yelled "And the blood trail leads in here" she waved her torch over her head, signalling the other searchers.

Mac and Stella ran to her side and Flack joined them a second later.

There was a buzz and a click and several high powered lamps flashed to life "At last" Flack muttered, "Whoah" he crouched beside the wall, the long streak of blood which led more or less solidly from the door in the alley.

"Damn it he's really hurt bad" Stella frowned as Mac, chewing his lip pushed the door open carefully and stepped into the next room. The team followed him as Flack yelled for the other searchers to get more lamps and torches.

"Look, he was definitely in here" Mac pointed the beam from his torch at the pile of boxes Vincent had used to prop Danny up "Some how I don't think he stacked those boxes on his own…which could mean the kid is helping him" he mused.

"I thought we already established Danny's innocent in this" Stella said just quietly enough to be heard.

"Don't either of you even start" Aiden shook her head and pushed past her superiors, heading further into the room.

She walked immediately to the boxes, shining her torch on the blood and following the trail through the huge room. Flack smirked and followed her, pointedly not looking at Stella or Mac. The older pair met one another's eyes and followed their younger companions.

"Jesus he's bleedin' bad" Aiden said, carefully stepping around the droplets of blood.

"That's why we got this" Flack held up the bright green first aid bag he carried.

"How did he get this far bleeding so much?" Stella muttered.

"He's Danny, he's tougher than a coffin nail" Aiden stated, as if it where the most obvious thing in the world.

"That's pretty much accurate" Flack agreed.

"Where would he be heading?" Mac asked "I mean…that's one thing that's really confusing me, after Jack went back into the apartment, why didn't Danny…I don't know, wait here for help, or try to get back in his building?" he frowned.

"Well he's shot…so he's got blood loss, shock, a kid in tow…maybe with the alley being as blocked up as it was he figured that he could find help if he kept moving?" Flack pondered.

"Or maybe Jack posed more of an immediate threat?" Stella suggested "There was that broken glass in the alley that probably came from beer bottles and didn't seem old…maybe he was chucking bottles after them so they ran in the first building to get away and just….kept going?"

"Could be" Mac agreed, "hey over here, new door" he yelled.

The group joined him, staring despairingly out at the snow covered lot outside. "It's going to take us forever to find his trail in this" Stella spat.

"Well the sooner we get to it the better" Aiden said, her voice, forcibly up beat. She stepped carefully into the snow and shone her torch at the floor "Check it out already, there are depressions in the snow, probably from foot prints," she crouched beside the depression and began to carefully sweep at the snow on either side. Stella joined her as Mac and Flack stepped out into the snow, searching for more depressions.

"I got blood" Stella stated, squinting in the still heavily falling snow "Not a lot but its here"

"More depressions, what could be a trail" Flack called out from several feet away.

Mac was even further up than Flack, shining his torch toward an alley way "If I was Danny I'd head that way" he called out as the other searchers began to light up other room as they had lit the first, being careful not to disturb anything that may be evidence, simply lighting up the room as much as possible.

"Can you keep searching here, preserve the blood and the foot prints, we're gonna see what else we can see" Stella told one of the other searchers who where also CSI's.

She and Aiden followed their male counterparts toward the alley way, keeping their torches on the ground, following the shallow depressions.

"Oh fuck me" Flack snapped from several feet into the alley way.

There where visible blood drops in the reasonably sheltered alley way, leading even deeper in. Flack was following the blood drops, which where not in a straight line, as if Danny had been staggering unsteadily.

"I'm guessing he came through here" Flack was trying to appear detached "looks like he turned up into this alley…damn it he's gone really far" Flack began to follow the trail, yelling Danny's name.

"Flack he's probably long gone by now" Stella yelled "lets just get to where he may have gone before we start yelling"

Aidan and Flack set off following the droplets further into the winding maze of alley ways, their torch beams bouncing off the walls briefly as they tried to get their bearings. "Do you know where we are?" Flack asked Aiden.

"Not…accurately…I mean I know where we are in relation to Danny's place, but I couldn't be totally sure where these alley ways are gonna come out or where the fronts of some of these buildings might be" Aiden admitted.

"Weird to think there could be these little…no where places in a city like New York" Flack mused.

"Not exactly…I mean…Considering the size and how old it is, all the building, re building that goes on…it sort of makes sense that there are spaces like this where there's a whole lot of nothing" Aiden replied.

"Good point…plus buildings like that first one, half the time the guys who own places like that, forgot they even own them…but it still freaks me out that these alley ways…you cant get in here from a main road, you couldn't get a car in here, you can only just get people in here…I'm a grown man right, and I'm seriously grateful that we got so many people backing us up so we know where to go to get out of here if we need to…imagine if a kid got lost in these alleys…shit, think of how it must be for Danny and this little boy" Flack shook his head.

"I'd rather not" Aidan said quietly.

"hey, are you doing okay with all of this?" Flack looked at Aiden as he walked.

The young CSI kept her eyes on the ground, following the blood as she answered "Yeah, I'm fine, just tryna get Danny back safe and sound is all"

"I only ask cos…I know you and Danny are really good friends…I mean, _really_ good friends right?" Flack asked.

Aiden actually smirked "Meaning what exactly?" she put a warning tone in her voice.

"Nothing just…look the way I look at you CSI's…Mac and Stella are like the principals of the school and you two are the kids they have to keep an eye on…which isn't a slight to you two, I just say that cos you're both still learning…but you and Danny, you have…I don't know, kind of a thing…I see it all the time when you both are together, you have this…chemistry I guess" Flack shrugged.

"What! Not even!" Aiden snapped, still following the trail.

"Aiden, sweetie, trust me, it's there" Flack stated "But, even if it wasn't, you two get along better than any one at CSI, you're more than just work colleagues, you're genuine friends, I mean me and Danny hang out, out side of work, but in that…guy way, I mean we're friends I guess but it's a matter if convenience…you know how I first got talking to him, before I really knew who he was?" Flask asked.

"How?" Aiden seemed to warm to the story Flack was preparing to tell.

"I was supposed to be playing a two on two pick up game, me and another detective named Marcel, playing two other detectives right? Only Marcel's kid gets the chicken pox and the day of the game, Marcel wakes up all pimply and itchin, and this was like a…a tournament in the squad so it wasn't like I could just forfeit, there was some money, a little cup, not to mention glory on the line, so I'm stranded tryna find a partner to play with and no one'll help me out cos me and Marcel have kicked more or less every other teams ass so they don't want to see us win, and I'm up poo creek basically and I'm walkin to the play ground to ask the other guys if we can rain check, knowin full well they wont, and I see Danny playin a solo game, I don't know workin out I guess, and he's doin good for a wiry little spazz with specs" Flack smiled fondly at the memory "So I asked him to play, he did, we won by like a million points and from then on, he was my sports guy, I needed some one to play a game with, Danny was my guy…and our friendship just kinda developed out of that…we don't really have anything in common out side of sports…I love the little geek any way but….you and him, you got like, the same weird sense of humour, and you get those goofy science jokes you crack and you have like, in jokes over experiments you did that crack you up and are totally 'had to be there' kinds of things…I mean its cute how well you each compliment one another's personalities too, you're like, cool headed to his fiery temper, you both have that…hey" Flack stopped dead in his tracks and put a hand on Aiden's shoulder, pulling her up short.

She had ducked her head so her hair covered her face but Flack could clearly see that she was crying "Aiden, sweetie hey, I didn't mean to upset you! Come'ere" he pulled her into a bear hug, resting his chin atop her head as she slumped in his arms, quietly sobbing.

"I'm sorry" she whispered "I just…I keep thinking we're gonna find his body and I think of how different everything will be without him and how you're right about how me and him are friends and I don't want to lose my friend Flack!" her voice was muffled as she still had her head buried in his chest.

"You wont lose him Aid, none of us will, we're gonna find him, we're gonna get him to the hospital, we'll sort this mess out, he'll be back at work this time next week, wising off to a suspect as usual"

"Hey what's going on?" Stella asked quietly, her voice filled with concern.

"I figured this situation wasn't quiet sad and messed up enough" Flack told her, still hugging Aiden as he spoke "so I made a pretty girl cry, you know, for the kicks" he shrugged.

Stella raised an eye brow at him as Aiden drew away from the hug, making a visible effort to compose herself.

She sniffed and gave him a gentle shove "What ever Flack, any time you wanna start in with the water works, go right ahead, we know you like to appear uber macho but its okay to cry a little some times" she said jokingly.

Flack gave her a smile "I really didn't mean to upset you" he told her.

"I know you big lug" she muttered, clearly embarrassed by her emotional outburst.

"You kids" Stella rolled her eyes and headed back to where Mac was talking into a walkie talkie as the younger cops continued on after the blood drops.

"You really think we'll find him again?" Aiden asked Flack quietly.

"We better" Flack said, deadly serious "The B-Ball tournament is swinging back around soon and Marcel's takin the wife to Aruba"

"Oh fuck" they heard Mac growl.

"Whats wrong?" Aiden yelled back.

"One of the other shifts CSI's just called in…she was going over the apartment for any final evidence we could use and she dropped her pen under the fridge…she found the fucking gun, she said there's scratches on it like it slid across the floor…she thinks Jack could have shot himself and dropped the gun and it went under the fridge, she said it wasn't far enough under to have been purposely shoved there. Danny didn't kill Jack"

**NYNYNY**

"So the good news is, I have some idea of where we are" Danny told Vincent who now walked at his side, holding Danny's hand.

"And the bad news?" Vincent asked.

"We're miles away from where I wanted us to be. But, there's an all night diner right there" Danny grinned widely and pointed at the dimly lit diner across the street "So I'm thinking…breakfast?" he grinned down at Vincent.

"Okay!" Vincent smiled back, his green eyes shining in the light from a street lamp.

They crossed the street and Danny pulled Vincent up short as they where about to enter the diner.

"Listen, sit near the door and be ready to run, we cant be totally sure these guys are safe" he told the little boy.

"Maybe we could ask to use their phone and call for help?" Vincent suggested.

Danny frowned deeply in thought "Mmm, maybe, we'll see how it goes…if they seem okay, maybe we call for help, if not, we book, deal?" he asked.

Vincent nodded, hoping the people in the diner would meet what ever criteria Danny had for 'safe' people.

They entered the diner, the pair f them blinking in unison in the glare of the over head fluorescent lights which buzzed and hummed and clicked.

Danny immediately directed them to a booth almost exactly beside the door as a tired, bored looking woman in a waitress uniform shuffled over to them carrying a coffee pot, looking as if she needed its contents intravenously pumped into her blood stream. She barely looked at Danny and Vincent as she poured Danny a coffee, set the pot down and asked for their orders.

"Um…pancakes?" Danny asked Vincent, noting internally that while the waitress seemed as if she was too tired to notice anything, her eyes would flick around in sharp little jolts, taking in everything. The woman was an experienced New Yorker, not to mention working the graveyard shift in a diner in the middle of the city. She had probably memorised Danny from the top of his head down to his sneakers in perfect detail before she even picked up the coffee pot to approach the booth, and would give the cops that picture perfect description if she thought it necessary. Danny was glad he was sitting with his bad shoulder facing into the booth, so it was less obvious, but he figured the woman had already seen and noted it too.

"With everything?" Vincent asked and Danny nodded in agreement "Two orders of pancakes with everything and two glasses of OJ please" he smiled at her, figuring being polite wouldn't exactly hurt.

"Anything else" the waitress, whose nametag read 'Millie' drawled lethargically.

"That'll be it for now, thanks" Danny nodded.

She turned and shuffled away, her scuffed tennis shoes making soft scraping noises on the linoleum floor as she walked behind the counter and relayed their owrder to the chef.

She spoke to the large, hairy man for longer than seemed necessary to ask for two sets of pancakes, and Danny caught the tiny glance she threw back at him and Vincent.

As Danny watched, she wandered, seemingly vaguely over to the phone, sighing as she picked up he receiver, as if her call was to no one important.

Danny watched her dial three digits, then mime dialling some more before turning her back to him and slouching against the wall as if she where simply calling to check in on her kids or husband or some thing unrelated to Danny and Vincent.

"We have to go" Danny told Vincent as the boy idly tapped his fingers on the table.

"Why?" the kid squeaked, obviously upset.

"The waitress just called the cops on us, we have to leave right now Vincent, please don't make a fuss, just get up with me and we'll walk out, cool as cats" Danny gave Vincent a reassuring grin.

"But the cops will help us wont they, we should wait for them!" Vincent stated.

"Not if they've been called on us like this…if we go to the right people, that's different, but then the police have been phoned on you, its bad, they see you as a bad person…it will make things worse Vincent I swear to god it will" Danny said seriously.

Vincent sighed but slid out of the booth obediently. He took Danny's hand and they quietly slipped out of the doors of the diner, walking away as quickly as they could.

"That was close huh?" Danny asked.

Vincent shrugged, feeling the tiny spark of hope dwindle in his chest.

**NYNYNY**

"Hurry up!" Officer Jason Macnulty yelled out of his window at his partner as the older man, Simon Liu, carried a cardboard tray holding two cups of coffee out of the deli they had stopped at.

"Dispatch just called it in man, a waitress at a diner just reported a wounded guy with a kid coming into her diner a few minutes ago, wounded guy matches Messer's description perfectly" Macnulty took the tray from Liu as his partner climbed into the car.

"Oh hell yeah" Liu grinned.

"A car is heading to the diner now but I said we'd patrol the immediate area, Messer booked when he saw the waitress making the call, if that isn't behaviour of a guilty man I don't know what is" Macnulty shook his head "So I figure we just take him out as soon as we can, don't let it escalate ya know, we don't want to hurt the kid" he mused as Liu put the car into gear.

Macnulty gave him the address and he began to drive, carefully navigating the snowy roads.

"He got pretty far huh?" Liu thought out loud.

"Probably trying to get back to Tanglewood or something, get to a mobbed up safe house ya know?" Macnulty nodded "I shudder to think what might happen to that kid in a mob house…he either gets killed as a witness, raised by some fucked up crime family and brainwashed into likin it, or they sell him off to some perv to turn a dime" he sneered "Or maybe that's why this whole thing started, maybe that dad was trying to protect his son from the kids 'special friend' Danny Messer" he shrugged.

"Either way, fuckers gonna die" Lie said dismissively.

**NYNYNY**

Stella, Mac, Aiden and Flack where running back through the alley ways, leaving the other searchers and CSI's to follow the trail.

They too had heard the call and had no doubts that the man in the diner was Danny. They charged through the snow, ducking around the people who now filled the alley ways, searching for Danny and the boy. Making it back ti the original alley in less than half the time it had taken them to get to where they got the call, Flack began barking orders at uniformed officers who where still at the scene, even as he ran fro the car, digging his keys from his pocket. He and the CSI's piled into his car, all but humming with tension as Flack peeled out, driving far too fast considering the weather. It was the weather however that had snowed in a lot of people, leaving the now early morning streets almost totally empty. It was not yet dawn, but the earliest risers, or latest fallers depending on how you looked at it, where still on the streets as Flack threw the car into turns, spins and one spectacular donut that miraculously, didn't kill anyone inside or outside of the car, while also leaving them facing the direction they needed to go.

"We're no good to Danny spread across six blocks Flack" Mac said firmly, hanging onto the dash board for dear life.

"I promise next time I'll go slower Man but right now, Danny's bleeding out" Flack shrugged and spun the wheel again.

"if I puke will that help?" Stella asked from the back seat.

"Swallow it Stel" Aiden warned, "Flack, don't be a pussy put your damn foot down" she snapped.

"I love it when a woman talks dirty" Flack smirked and stamped on the accelerator, slamming the cherry light onto his dash and flicking the switch. As the whooping siren and spinning red light filled the car, Aiden said a silent prayer that this dangerous ride would be worth it, that there would be something to save once they got there.

**NYNYNY**

"Shit, shit, shit" Danny was muttering under his breath as he stared at the slowly approaching car.

"Danny they're cops" Vincent was saying "What do we do, do we try to get away?"

"Probably wont make a difference" Danny said resignedly "We're dead kid…I'm sorry" he muttered.

"No!" Vincent squeaked "No we made it this far! We can get away!"

"Where could we go?" Danny hissed as the car got closer.

"The subway, we could just go down and hide out until a train comes!" Vincent began pulling Danny toward the subway entrance which was just closer to them than the cops where.

Danny let himself be pulled, his eyes flicking from the car to the entrance, his mind racing.

"Alright, but they've seen us, so this has to be quick…when I say go, we run, okay?" he asked Vincent.

"Yeah" the boy nodded.

"Ready…go!" Danny snapped and together, he and Vincent charged for the stairs.

The cop car came to a sudden halt and two officers, their guns already drawn, climbed out, their faces set in grim masks.

"We got you Tanglewood" Danny heard one of them yell as he reached the stairs a little behind Vincent, hoping his shoulder didn't hinder his progress down.

His foot twisted under him and he pitched forward with a yell, remembering just in time to bring up his hands to try and protect his face as he tumbled down the cold, hard steps. His injured shoulder banged against the edge of a step and Danny all but blacked out for the rest of the fall, only dimly becoming aware he had raced the bottom when Vincent began trying to drag him away.

Danny couldn't move his right leg and he could feel the heavy, hollow feeling that accompanied broken bone some where near his ankle. Other injuries began to call in for attention, most notably his gunshot wound, and Danny looked back up the stairs he had fallen down to see the two cops advancing on him slowly, their guns drawn.

Danny took a breath and forced himself to sit up, shuffling back wards awkwardly using only one hand and one leg to push himself.

"Freeze, NYPD" one of the cops growled "You used to know that that means something" he added angrily.

"Danny?" Vincent said warily as he helped Danny move backwards.

"You got it wrong" Danny managed to croak, his head feeling oddly clear for the first time in hours. He could suddenly see that given the probable scene he had left in his apartment building, there was a good chance he was in some trouble.

"You executed that boys father, we didn't get that wrong" on of the cops, an Asian American with slightly greying hair spat.

"What?" Danny and Vincent asked in unison.

"Okay, you got it really wrong" Danny panted, his chest feeling broken rib tight "That SOB was alive when we left"

"Sure he was" the other cop, a red headed freckle faced kid scoffed "Son, come here to us, we're gonna protect you" he looked at Vincent.

Vincent clutched Danny even tighter as Danny reached a wall and stopped shuffling backwards. Danny reached up and grabbed Vincent's arm, squeezing it comfortingly. He could see the determination in the two officers eyes and with a silent curse, he gave Vincent a gentle push "Vincent run away, these are bad cops" he said quietly.

"Where's the gun Messer?" the red head asked.

"Ask the kids dad, he still had it when we left, after shooting me with it!" Danny snapped, becoming aware that he had reopened the stitches in his shoulder.

"The kids dad, is dead. You executed him mafia style you sick fuck, now where is the gun!" the older cop growled.

"I don't have it!" Danny yelled painfully "I never had it!"

"Messer, we know all about you man, not just tonight…you got a reputation, you're a bad cop" Red head said quietly.

Danny sensed Vincent stiffen beside him and cursed inwardly.

"No he's not" Vincent said quietly.

"Son I don't know what he's told you but you need to understand, Danny Messer is a dangerous man, he killed your daddy and he wants to hurt you!" the older cops said and a tiny part of Danny couldn't help but respect how the cop was trying to keep the child safe.

"You're wrong, Dad was alive when we got away!" Vincent snapped.

"Messer told you that did he?" Red actually cocked his gun and took a step toward Danny, who felt his heart rate jump up a million more beats.

"Don't do this" Danny whispered "You've gotten it totally wrong" he could feel his shoulder bleeding heavily again, and was dimly aware that he was bleeding on the floor of the train station, and that he was losing his fight to stay awake.

"Look man, you're scum, and you're not walking out of here alive…we know you're a Tanglewood plant, and that you set up Officer Minhas to be killed…its an eye for an eye, you killed one of ours, so we kill you" the older cop shrugged and any respect Danny had had for him went out the window "So show the gun so me and Jase here don't lose our jobs, come on"

"I don't…have…the gun" Danny growled angrily.

"Well then if anybody asks we'll say he groped the kid" Red, Jase, shrugged coldly and squeezed the trigger on his gun.

There was a flash and a bang and Danny heard Vincent shrieking before he got another, fresh dose of that molten liquid pain from before, this one on his chest, and then the darkness came.

**NYNYNY**

Aiden ran down the subway stairs, her inner CSI noticing fresh blood stains on some of the steps, indicating that some one with an open wound had passed by here not long ago. As she neared the bottom step, Mac, Stella and Flack at her back, she could see the backs of the two officers, Liu and Macnulty, who had called in only a minute before reporting to have spotted Danny and the boy.

As Aiden had leapt from Flaks car a second ago, she had heard the muffled report of a gun and as she reached the last step she realised what it had been.

"He grabbed for the kid!" one of the uniforms yelled as Aiden shoved past them.

Danny sat with his back to the wall, his legs spread out in front of him. His skin was grey and bloodstained, and there where two gun shot wounds on his body, one in his shoulder and one in his chest. There where growing pools of blood surrounding him, staining his jeans red and a tiny boy was clinging to him, screaming for help. Danny lay as still as the dead.

Aiden looked down and saw that the red haired cops gun was smoking from being fired.

She swung and clocked him clean across the face as Flack, Stella and Mac ran to Danny's side, Flack screaming into his walkie talkie for an ambulance.

"He tried to grope the fucking kid!" the older uniform yelled as Aiden hurried to Danny and began trying to pry the little boy off've him so Mac and Stella could get a better look at his wounds.

The kid was clinging to the chillingly unresponsive Danny but Aiden used brute force to simple drag him away, jumping as he spun and wrapped his arms around her instead.

Flack, angrier than Aiden had ever seen strode over to the two uniforms and snatched their guns from their hands.

"He killed that kids dad and he tried to molest that kid just now, we had to shoot him!" the red haired, now bloody nosed cop yelled.

"That kids fucking father killed himself you stupid, stupid bastards!" Flack roared into the cops face "you just shot an unarmed, totally innocent cop who saved a child's life tonight! I hope to god you got savings the pair of you because I will personally be seeing to it that neither of you are ever getting your badges back, you'll be fucking lucky if I let you leave this station alive now get the hell out of my sight but don't even think about leaving!" Flack's voice was at a level Aiden had never heard before.

"You liars!" the boy in her arms suddenly shrieked "Danny didn't try to hurt me you just said you would make it up and you shot him cos you think he's a bad cop! He took care of me and you killed him!" the boy was wailing through heaving sobs.

Aiden, still unable to speak hugged to boy to her and watched as Flack reached a whole new level of anger.

He literally tore a pair of cuffs from his belt and snapped them onto the uniforms, barking out the Miranda rights and almost unintelligible yells.

The uniforms seemed to consider resisting but Flack grabbed the read head by the collar of his jacket and dragged him so close they where almost nose to nose.

"Resist" Flack said in a suddenly very quiet voice "Please resist, give me an excuse to shoot you"

The uniform audibly gulped but still sneered arrogantly "You cant tell me I didn't just do a good thing, Messer was the rot in the NYPD, we'll be better off without him!" he shook his head.

"You better pray they take you out of hear before a train comes officer, cause I'm gonna throw you under the next one comes along" Flack said blankly and everyone in the station knew he was serious.

A pair of paramedics ran down the stairs, carrying a stretcher between them and Aiden felt part of herself detach from the rest of her to watch the proceedings from a cold, clinical perspective. The medics didn't hesitate to cut Danny's shirts open to get closer looks at the wound. The one on his shoulder looked to Aiden as if a street/gang doctor had done a sew job and sent Danny on his way, but the stitches where ton and the wound was bleeding freely. The one on his chest was close to his heart and it too poured blood. Danny had blood on his face and Aiden realised it was dribbling from his mouth because he had blood in his lungs. She supposed that meant he was still breathing.

The bubble burst. Aiden gasped raggedly and felt her legs give way underneath her as on of the medics slipped an oxygen mask over Danny's face, checking his wrist for a pulse.

"How much blood has he lost?" one of the medics asked Mac and Stella, who stood back from Danny, their hands covered in his blood from trying to stop the bleeding.

"We don't know, he sustained one of those wounds at least five or six hours ago" Mac said, his voice sounding calm but with a thread of panic.

"Looks like he got a beating too, we need to get him out of here, now" the medic growled, dragging the stretcher toward him as his partner began to lay Danny flat, sliding a back board under him.

Aiden was kneeling on the floor, Vincent curled up in her arms, the pair of them openly weeping. More cops began filing into the station, and silence reigned as they watched the frantically working medics try to stabilise Danny enough to move him. The call had gone out that Danny was innocent, so as far as the cops where concerned, Danny was no longer a potential suspect, he was a fallen officer.

"Anything we can do?" one cop called out to the medics.

"make sure our bus isn't blocked in and a few of you help us get this stretcher up the stairs" a medic told the officer.

At some unspoken command, several officers raced back up the stairs to make sure the ambulance was not blocked in, in any way, while others ran to the medics sides and prepared to hoist the stretcher up the stairs.

Aiden could see blood staining the inside of Danny's mask, and the machines the medics where attaching to him where beginning to shriek with warnings that the patient was not doing well.

Flack was staring wordlessly at Danny's still form, every cop in that subway station was. The medics, acutely aware of the close scrutiny, nodded to one another and told the cops where to grab the stretcher, then lifted it, climbing the stairs.

Aiden heard some one ask "He gonna make it?" presumably of one of the medics.

The harried sounding "I don't know" the medic offered up in reply, inspired hope in no one.

**NYNYNY**

Aiden was gazing idly out of the window of Danny's hospital room, tapping out a rhythm on the rails of his bed. Her face had the scrubbed, flushed look you get from crying to much, but her eyes where hard and cool, her mouth set in a grim, angry line.

Danny lay in his bed, wrapped in bandages and hooked up to what seemed like every machine under the sun.

He had needed surgery to repair the damage Officer Macnulty's bullet had done, not to mention enough blood transfusions that Aiden had simple lost count. The doctors in the ER had had a lot of difficulty stabilising him to send him up to surgery, and Aiden knew that the sight of the treatment room after they had wheeled Danny away; dozens of blood stained rags littering the floor, pools of blood, discarded pieces of medical equipment, all for Danny, would stay with her forever. But it was okay, because Danny was doing well. Aiden felt a nudge against her arm where she leaned on the bed and looked up to see Danny, awake, his blue eyes shining. He couldn't talk to her, there was still a tube in his throat helping him to breath after the surgeries on his chest.

"Hey" Aiden couldn't help the slow smile that spread across her lips at the sight of him awake, interacting.

She pushed the note book that had been left at his side closer to his hand and put a pencil in his hand, resisting the urge to sweep a lock of hair from his forehead. Danny scribbled his note and passed it to her. Aiden read it quickly.

"Vincent's fine, he's in a group home for now but Mac's pulling some strings to get him with a really nice family who live by the park, they said they can already get him enrolled in some genius school or something" Aiden smiled, adoring the fact that Danny, since he had regained conciousness the day before, had only asked about Vincent.

Danny scribbled another note. "No I haven't been crying again!" Aiden blushed bright red "I just…washed my face to stay wake, you make for boring company Messer!" she scoffed.

Danny wrote another note " 'It's okay to cry Aiden…crying lets the hurt out'" Aiden read the note aloud and glared at Danny who smiled around the tube.

"I will beat your ass Messer, I'm not fooled by this 'oh I'm all injured' shtick you're throwing around!" she grinned.

Danny caught her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

"What's wrong?" she frowned.

He shook his head and took the pen back up, scribbling a longer note " 'I really though I wasn't going to make it this time…plus I think I have the wrong idea about my dad' How do you mean?" Aiden asked.

" 'I think" she read aloud as he wrote it "' he was like Vincent's dad, but I never realised'…oh Danny" Aiden did lean fore ward and lay her hand on his forehead, meeting his eyes "You always said you and your dad where close?...how did you figure it out?" she asked.

Danny turned to another page on the note pad and began to write.

Aiden thought about what Flack had been saying as she watched Danny's hand tear across the page, and as she leaned against his arm, relaxing naturally against him, she wondered, how right had the detective been.

And that's the end of that chapter dusts hands let me know if you want em to go on with the Danny/Aidan stuff, im not a huge shipper but I think I could make something kind of fun with em both having to confront their loooooove. You all let me know, thanks for the lovely lovely reviews!Nadine.xxxxx


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